UC-NRLF 


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University  of  California. 


«  .  !  ;•   r  «  )  h' 


COLLE 


TIIEOLOGICA 


VARIOUS  AUTHORS. 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION, 


BT 


GKORGE    R.    NOTES,  D.D., 


PR()Ft:S5<il{    OF     SACREU     MTERATURE     IN 


BOSTON: 
AMERICAN   UNITARIAN   ASSOCIATION 

1880. 


/\  so 


tJLC 


•ecorJIog  to  Act  of  Congren,  In  the  year  1836,  by 
The  Amkicican  Uxitakian  Ass<>ciatu».\, 
Clerk's  Office  of  the  DUtrict  Court  of  the  DUtrkt  of  Uaenchuaeite 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

introduction.    By  Geot^  R.  Noyes. t 


Faith  and  Science.    By  M.  Guizot 1 

The  Law  and  the  Gospel.     By  Rev.  Baden  Powell.        ...  27 

The  Doctrine  of  Inspiration.     By  Dr.  F.  A.  D.  Tlioluck.           .  65 

Holy  Scripture.     By  Rev.  Rowland  Williams.        ...  113 
Servants  of  God  speaking  as  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.    By  Rev. 

Rowland  Williams .127 

The  Spirit  and  the  Letter,  or  the  Truth  and  the  Book.    By  Rev. 

Rowland  Williams 147 

On  the  Causes  which  probably  conspired  to  produce  our  Saviour's 

Agony.     By  Rev.  Edward  Harwood 167 

Of  our  Lord's  Fortitude.     By  Rev.  William  Newcome.       .         .  197 

The  Doctrine  of  the  Atonement.     By  Benjamin  Jowett.         .        .  221 

On  Righteousness  by  Faith.     By  Benjamin  Jowett.    .         .        .  239 

On  the  Imputation  of  the  Sin  of  Adam.     By  Benjamin  Jowett.     .  265 

On  Conversion  and  Changes  of  Character.     By  Benjamin  Jowett.  273 

Casuistry.     By  Benjamin  Jowett. 299 

On  the  Connection  of  Immorality  and  Idolatry.    By  Benjamin 

Jowett 321 

The  Old  Testament.    By  Benjamin  Jowett 325 

On  the  Quotations  from  the  Old  Testament  in  the  New.  By  Benja- 
min Jowett. 329 

Fragment  on  the  Character  of  St.  Paul.    By  Benjamin  Jowett.    .  341 


!▼  CONTENTS. 

St  Paul  and  the  Twelve.    By  Benjamin  Jowctt.        .        .        .  357 

Evils  in  the  Church  of  the  Apostolical  Age.     By  Benjamin  JowetL  3SS 
On  the  Belief  in  the  Coming  of  Clmst  in  the  Apostolical  Age.    By 

Benjamin  Jowett. 393 

The  Death  of  Christ,  considered  as  a  Sacrifice.    By  Rev.  James 

Foster 403 

The  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians,  in  Relation  to  the  Gospel  History. 

By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley 415 

Apostolical  Worship.     By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley.    .        .        .  437 

The  Eucharist.     By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley 443 

Unity  and  Variety  of  Spiritual  Gifts.    By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley.  447 
The  Gift  of  Tongues  and  tlie  Gift  of  Prophesying.    By  Rev.  Ar- 
thur P.  Stanley 453 

Love,  the  greatest  of  Gifts.    By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley.    .        .  472 

The  Resurrection  of  Christ.     By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley.      .        .  477 

The  Resurrection  of  the  Dead.     By  Rev.  Arthur  P.  Stanley.       .  482 

On  the  Credibility  of  Miracles.    By  Dr.  Thomas  Bro^^^l.      .        .  485 


Note  A 509 

NotcB ftU 


^^^    01'"  THE 

'TJFIVEESITY^ 


INTRODUCTION 


The  following  collection  of  Theological  Essays 
is  designed  for  students  in  divinity,  Sunday-school 
teachers,  and  all  intelligent  readers  who  desire  to  gain 
correct  views  of  religion,  and  especially  of  the  char- 
acter, use,  and  meaning  of  the  Scriptures.  It  was 
suggested  by  the  recent  excellent  Commentary  on  the 
Epistles  of  Paul  by  Rev.  Mr.  Jowett,  now  Professor  of 
Greek  in  the  University  of  Oxford.  Understanding 
that  this  work  was  not  likely  to  be  reprinted  in  this 
country,  and  that  the  high  price  of  the  English  edition 
rendered  it  inaccessible  to  most  readers,  it  appeared  to 
me  that  a  collection  of  Theological  Essays,  which 
should  include  the  most  important  dissertations  con- 
nected with  that  Commentary,  would  be  a  valuable 
publication.  Mr.  Jowett  seems  to  me  to  have  pene- 
trated more  deeply  into  the  views  and  spirit  of  Paul, 
and  the  circumstances  under  which  he  wrote,  than  any 
previous  English  commentator.  Some  of  the  best 
results  of  his  labors  are  presented  in  the  Essays  which 
are  now  republished  in  this  collection.  Mr.  Jowett's 
notes  might  have  been  more  satisfactory  in  some 
respects  if,  in  addition  to  other  German  commen- 
taries which  he  has  mentioned,  he  had  made  use  of 
those  of  De  Wette  and  Meyer.  But  no  illustrative 
dissertations  in  any  German  commentary  with  which 
a* 


Wl  INTRODUCTION. 

we  are  acquainted  are  equal  in  value  to  those  of 
Jowett.  His  freedom  aiid  independence  are  espe- 
cially to  be  adnnired  in  a  member  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  Professor  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 

In  the  selection  of  the  dissertations  by  other  writers, 
regard  was  had  partly  to  their  rarity,  and  partly  to 
their  intrinsic  value,  and  the  light  which  they  throw 
on  important  subjects  which  occupy  the  minds  of  re- 
ligious inquirers  at  the  present  day.  Three  Essays 
are  taken  from  Kitto's  Journal  of  Sacred  Literature, 
an  English  periodical  conducted  by  clergymen  of  the 
Established  Church,  of  which  few  copies  are  circu- 
lated in  this  country.  The  first,  by  M.  Guizot,  the 
eminent  writer  and  statesman  of  France,  presents  the 
subject  of  Faith  in  an  interesting  point  of  view,  and 
closes  with  an  admirable  lesson  on  the  importance  of 
the  free  discussion  of  religious  subjects. 

The  second  Essay,  by  Rev.  Baden  Powell,  an  emi- 
nent Professor  in  the  University  of  Oxford,  and  author 
of  several  well-known  publications,  contains  an  able 
discussion  of  a  very  important  subject,  which  appears 
to  be  now  attracting  some  notice  in  this  country ; 
distinguished  divines  of  the*  Baptist  denomination 
taking  the  view  of  Dr.  Powell,  and  some  of  the  Or- 
thodox Congregational ists  opposing  it.  The  prevalent 
opinion,  which  regards  the  Old  Testament  as  an  au- 
thority in  religion  and  morals  equally  binding  upon 
Christians  with  the  New,  appears  to  me  to  have  had 
a  disastrous  inMuence  on  the  interests  of  the  Church 
and  the  interests  of  humanity.  The  history  of  the 
civil  wars  of  England  and  Scotland,  the  early  history 
of  New  England,  and  the  state  of  opinion  at  the  pres- 
ent day  on  the  subjects  of  war,  slavery,  punishment 
for  religious  opinion,  and  indeed  punishment  in  gea- 


INTRODUCTION.  VU 

era!,  illustrate  the  noxious  influence  of  the  prevalent 
sentiment.  A  writer  in  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
theological  journals  in  this  country  has  been  for  some 
time  engaged  in  the  vain  attempt  to  prove,  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  plainest  language,  that  the  laws  of  the 
Pentateuch  do  not  sanction  chattel  slavery.  It  was 
not  thus  that  the  great  champion  of  the  Protestant 
Reformation  proceeded,  when  the  authority  of  the  Old 
Testament  was  invoked  to  justify  immorality.  "When 
some  of  his  contemporaries  were  committing  unjusti- 
fiable acts  against  the  peace  and  order  of  the  commu- 
lity,  and  vindicated  themselves  by  appealing  to  the  Old 
Testament,  Luther  wrote  a  treatise  entitled  "  Instruc- 
tion on  the  Manner  in  which  Moses  is  to  be  read," 
containing  the  following  passage,  which,  in  tlie  clear- 
ness and  force  of  its  style,  might  have  been  imitated 
with  advantage  by  some  of  his  countrymen :  "  Moses 
was  a  mediator  and  lawgiver  to  the  Jews  alone,  to 
whom  he  gave  the  Law.  If  I  take  Moses  in  one  com- 
mandment, I  must  take  the  whole  of  Moses.  Moses 
is  dead.  His  dispensation  is  at  an  end.  He  has  no 
longer  any  relation  to  us.  I  will  accept  Moses  as  an 
instructor,  but  not  as  a  lawgiver,  except  where  he 
agrees  with  the  New  Testament,  or  with  the  law  of 
nature.  When  any  one  brings  forward  Moses  and 
his  precepts,  and  would  oblige  you  to  observe  them, 
answer  him  thus :  *  Go  to  the  Jews  with  your  Moses  ! 
I  am  no  Jew.  If  I  take  Moses  as  a  master  in  one 
point,  I  am  bound  to  keep  the  whole  law,  says  St. 

Paul.' If  now  the  disorganizers  say,  '  Moses  has 

commanded  it,'  do  you  let  Moses  go,  and  say,  *  I  ask 
not  what  Moses  has  commanded.'  *  But,'  say  they, 
'  Moses  has  commanded  that  we  should  believe  in 
God,  that  we  should  not  take  liis  name  hi  vain,  that 


«m  INTRODUCTION. 

we  should  honor  our  father  and  mother,  &c.  Must 
we  not  keep  these  commandments  ? '  Answer  them 
thus :  *  Nature  has  given  these  commandments.  Na- 
ture teaches  man  to  call  upon  God,  and  hence  it  is 
natural  to  honor  God,  not  to  steal,  not  to  commit 
adultery,  not  to  bear  false  witness,  &c.  Thus  I  keep 
the  commandments  which  Moses  has  given,  not  be- 
cause he  enjoined  them,  but  because  nature  implanted 

them  in  me.' But  if  any  one  say,  *  It  is  all  God's 

word,'  answer  him  thus :  *  God's  word  here,  God's 
word  there.  I  must  know  and  observe  to  tvhom  this 
word  is  spoken.  I  must  know  not  only  that  it  is 
God's  word,  but  whether  it  is  spoken  to  me  or  to  an- 
other. I  listen  to  the  word  which  concerns  me,  &c. 
We  have  the  Gospel.'  "  *  I  would  not  be  understood 
to  maintain  every  sentiment  which  Dr.  Powell  has 
advanced ;  but  his  views  in  general  appear  to  me  not 
only  sound,  but  highly  important. 

The  Essay  on  the  subject  of  Inspiration,  by  Tho- 
iuck,  is  to  be  found  in  English  only  in  the  same  for- 
eign journal.  The  views  of  a  biblical  student  who 
enjoys  so  great  a  reputation  among  Christians  ot 
various  denominations  in  all  parts  of  the  world  need 
no  recommendation.  The  translation  I  have  carefully 
compared  with  the  original,  and  found  to  be  made 
with  great  fidelity  and  accuracy. 

The  three  Essays  which  follow  on  the  use  and 
character  of  the  Scriptures  are  taken  from  a  recent 
volume  of  sermons,  entitled  **  Rational  Godliness,'* 
by  Rev.  Rowland  Williams,  a  clergyman  and  distin- 
guished scholar  of  the  Established  Church  of  Eng- 
land, having  been  delivered  before  the  Chancellor  and 


•  See  the  pMMs«  In  Lotlicr's  worki»  or  as  quoted  b/  BwnrhiwWir, 
Dogmuttk,  Vol  I.  p.  181. 


INTRODUCTION.  13^ 

University  of  Cambridge.  They  appear  to  me  suffi- 
ciently valuable  to  be  reprinted.  The  writer  may  be 
thought  by  some  to  underv-alue  external  authority, 
while  maintaining  the  rights  of  intuition  and  expe- 
rience as  means  of  attaining  Christian  truth.  But 
have  not  many  Christians  since  the  time  of  Paley 
paid  too  exclusive  regard  to  the  former?  It  seems  to 
me  that  those  who  accept  the  New  Testament  records 
of  miracles  as  genuine  and  authentic,  will  not  fail  to 
receive  from  them  their  due  influence,  and  will  be  in 
no  danger  of  attaching  too  great  importance  to  intui- 
tive faith  and  Christian  experience.  The  older  the 
world  grows,  the  less  must  religious  faith  depend  on 
history  and  tradition,  and  the  more  on  the  power  of 
the  human  soul,  assisted  by  the  promised  Paraclete, 
to  recognize  revealed  truth  by  its  own  light. 

The  four  Essays  which  follow  relate  to  the  great 
subject  of  the  Atonement  by  Christ,  and  are  designed 
to  establish  the  true  view  of  it,  in  opposition  to  cer- 
tain false  theories  which  human  speculation  has  con- 
nected with  it,  dishonorable  to  the  character  of  God, 
pernicious  in  their  influence  on  man,  and  having  no 
foundation  in  the  Scriptures  or  in  reason.  The  Essay 
on  the  Causes  which  probably  conspired  to  produce 
our  Saviour's  Agony,  is  by  a  distinguished  English 
scholar  of  the  last  century,  the  author  of  an  Introduc- 
tion to  the  New  Testament,  and  of  a  translation  of 
the  same,  which,  though  it  departs  too  much  from  the 
simplicity  of  the  Common  Version,  is  highly  creditable 
to  the  author  as  a  critic  and  a  inan  of  learning.  The 
Essay  which  is  here  republished  is  commended  by 
Archbishop  Newcome  in  his  very  valuable  observa- 
tions, which  follow,  on  substantially  the  same  subject, 
—  the   P^ortitude  of  our  Saviour.      The  two  Essays 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

appear  to  me  to  give  a  triumphant  vindication  of  the 
character  of  our  Saviour  from  the  charges  which  have 
been  brought  against  it  by  unbelievers,  and,  hypothet- 
ically,  by  some  Christian  divines,  founded  on  certain 
expressions  of  feeling  manifested  a  short  time  before 
his  death,  which  his  faithful  historians  have  recorded 
for  our  instruction  and  consolation. 

It  so  happens  that  that  part  of  one  of  the  specula- 
tive theories  connected  with  the  Christian  doctrine  of 
atonement  which  is  most  repulsive  to  the  feelings  of 
many  Christians,  is  absolutely  without  foundation  in 
tha  Scriptures,  or  in  the  faith  of  the  Church  for  many 
centuries  after  the  death  of  Christ.  I  refer  to  that 
opinion  which  represents  him  as  receiving  supernatu- 
ral pain  or  torture  immediately  from  the  hand  of  God, 
over  and  above  that  which  was  inHicted  by  human 
instrumentality,  or  which  arose  naturally  from  the 
circumstances  in  which  he,  as  God*s  minister  for  es- 
tablishing the  Christian  religion,  was  placed,  and  from 
the  peculiar  sensibility  of  his  natural  constitution. 
The  very  statement  of  this  theory  by  some  distin- 
guished theologians  shocks  the  feelings  of  many  Chris- 
tians like  the  language  of  impiety.  Thus  Dr.  Dwight 
says:  "Omniscience  and  Omnipotence  are  certainly 
able  to  communicate,  during  even  a  short  time,  to  a 
finite  mind,  such  views  of  the  hatred  and  contximpt  of 
God  towards  sin  and  sinners,  anrl  of  course  towards  a 
substilule  for  sinners^  as  would  not  only  fill  its  capa- 
city for  suflfering,  but  probably  put  an  end  to  its 
existence.  In  this  manner,  I  apprehend,  the  chief 
distresses  of  Christ  were  produced."*  What  ideas! 
The  omnipotence  and  omniscience  of  God  are  firnt 

•  Dwight'i  Theology,  Vol.  II.  p.  214. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

called  in  to  communicate  a  sense «  of  his  hatred  and 
contempt  to  a  sinless  man,  and,  secondly,  the  sufFer- 
mgs  and  even  the  death  of  Christ  are  represented  as 
the  immediate  consequence  of  his  sense  of  God's 
hatred  and  contempt! 

Dr.  Macknight,  a  theologian  of  considerable  celeb- 
rity, gives  a  somewhat  different  view,  but  equally 
appalling.  He  says :  "  Our  Lord's  perturbation  and 
agony,  therefore,  arose  from  the  pains  ivhich  were 
injiicted  upon  him  by  the  hand  of  God,  when  he  made 

his  soqI  an  offering  for  sin Though  Jesus  knew 

no  sin,  God  might,  by  the  immediate  operation  of  his 
power,  make  him  feel  those  pains  ivhich  shall  be  the 
punishment  of  sin  hereafter,  in  order  that,  by  the  visi- 
ble effects  which  they  produced  upon  him,  mankind 
might   have  a  just  notion   of  the  greatness  of  these 

pains His  bearing  those  pains,  with  a  view  to 

show  how  great  they  are,  was  by  no  means  punish- 
ment. It  was  merely  suffering."  *  Such  is  the  repre- 
sentation of  Dr.  Macknight,  in  a  treatise  entitled 
"  The  Conversion  of  the  World  to  Christianity  " ! 

In  his  Institutes,!  Calvin  undoubtedly  represents 
Christ  as  suffering  the  pains  of  hell  in  the  present, 
not  the  future  life.  He  expressly  explains  the  seem- 
ing paradox  that  Christ  should  descend  into  hell  before 
his  death. 

A  recent  work  by  Krummacher,  which  has  been 
industriously  circulated  in  New  England,  contains  a 
representation  similar  to  that  of  D  wight  and  Mac- 
knight, in  language  still  more  horrible.  Other  recent 
writers  in  New  Eno:land  have  sanctioned  the  same 
view. 

*  See  Macknight,  in  Watson's  Tracts,  Vol.  V.  p.  183. 
t  Book  11.  ch.  16,  §  10,  11. 


Zii  INTRODUCTION. 

Now  to  this  theory  a  decisive  objection  is,  that  it 
has  not  the  least  foundation  in  the  Scriptures,  and 
that  it  is  in  fact  inconsistent  with  the  general  tenor  ol 
the  New  Testament,  which  speaks  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings in  connection  with  the  obvious  second  causes  of 
them, recorded  in  the  history;  namely,  the  reviling  and 
persecuting  of  his  enemies,  the  coldness  and  desertion 
of  his  disciples,  the  dark  prospects  of  his  mission,* 
his  blood,  his  death,  and  the  terrible  persecution  of  his 
followers,  which  were  to  precede  the  establishment  of 
his  religion.  Of  the  immediate  infliction  of  pain  by 
the  Deity,  over  and  above  what  Jewish  malice  in- 
flicted upon  him,  we  find  not  a  word.  There  is  not  a 
particle  of  evidence  to  show  that  any  of  the  sufferings 
of  Clirist  were  inflicted  upon  him  by  any  more  direct 
or  immediate  agency  on  the  part  of  God,  than  those 
of  other  righteous  men  who  have  been  persecuted  to 
death  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness.  The 
text  in  Isa.  liii.  10,  —  "  Yet  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  him;  he  hath  put  him  to  grief;  when  thou 
shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin,"  &c.,  —  is  often 
referred  to.  But  such  an  application  of  this  text  can 
be  shown  to  be  wrong  in  two  ways  :  —  1.  It  can  be  de- 
monstrated, on  principles  of  interpretation  universally 
acknowledged,  that  the  "  servant  of  God,"  in  this 
and  the  preceding  chapters,  denotes,  at  least  in  its 
primary  sense,  the  Jewish  church,  the  Israel  of  God, 
who  suffered  on  account  of  the  sins  of  others  in  the 
time  of  the  captivity  at  Babylon.  1  cannot,  for  want 
of  space,  go  into  a  defence  of  this  view.  But  I  fully 
believe  it  to  be  correct,  and  it  is  maintained  by  the 
most  unbiassed  and  scientific  interpreters  of  the  Old 

•  Luke  xvUi.  8 ;  Matt.  xxW.  S4. 


INTRODUCTION.  XiU 

Testament.*  2.  The  language  in  question  denotes 
no  more  direct  and  immediate  agency  of  the  Deity, 
than  that  which  is  everywhere,  both  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament and  the  New,  ascribed  to  the  Deity  in  refer- 
ence to  the  sufferings  of  the  prophets  and  apostles. 
Comp.  Ps.  xxxix.  9,  10 ;  Jer.  xv.  17,  18 ;  xx.  7,  &c. ; 
xi.  18,  19 ;  Lam.  iii.  So  in  the  New  Testament,  if 
St.  Paul  tells  us  that  Christ  was  "  set  forth  as  a  pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice,"  he  also  says,  "  For  I  think  that 
God  has  set  forth  us  the  apostles  last,  as  it  were 
appointed  to  death."  Indeed,  there  is  no  idiom  in  the 
Scriptures  more  obvious  than  that  which  represents 
all  the  blessings  and  afflictions  of  life,  by  whatever 
instrumentality  produced,  as  coming  from  God. 

Modern  speculative  theologians,  not  finding  in  the 
sacred  history,  or  in  any  Scripture  statement,  any  au- 
thority for  their  supposition  of  a  miraculous  suffering 
or  torment,  inconceivable  in  degree,  inflicted  by  the 
immediate  agency  of  God  upon  the  soul  of  Christ, 
resort  to  mere  theory  to  support  their  position.  If, 
say  they,  Christ  was  not  enduring  "  vicarious  suffer- 
ing," inconceivable  in  degree,  inflicted  on  his  soul  by 
the  immediate  exertion  of  Almighty  power,  then  it 
follows  that  he  did  not  bear  his  sutferings  so  well  as 
many  martyrs,  —  so  well  as  "  the  thieves  on  the  cross," 
so  well  as  "  thousands  and  millions  of  common  men 
without  God  and  without  hope  in  the  world."  f 

Without  repeating  the  explanations  of  Dr.  Harwooc 

*  That  the  phrase  "  servant  of  God  "  is  a  collective  term,  denoting 
the  people  of  God,  compi-ehending  the  Jewish  nation,  or  the  better  pait 
of  the  Jewish  nation,  that  is,  the  Jewish  church,  has  been  maintained  by 
Buch  critics  as  Doderlein,  Rosen mU Her,  Jahn,  Gesenius,  Maurer,  Knobel, 
Ewald,  Hitzig  ;  also  by  the  old  Jewisii  critics,  such  as  Aben  Ezra,  Jai*- 
chi,  Abarbanel,  and  Kimchi, 

T  See  Stuart  on  Hebrews,  Exc.  XI.  p.  575. 
b 


XiV  INTRODUCTION. 

and  Archbishop  Newcome,  it  may  be  remarked,  — 
1.  That  at  best  this  is  only  an  argument  ad  Cliristia- 
num.  The  sceptic  and  the  scoffer  are  ready  to  accept 
the  statement  of  the  orthodox  divine,  and  to  tell  him 
that,  while  the  manner  in  which  Christ  endured  his 
sufferings  is  matter  of  history,  his  way  of  accounting 
for  them  is  pure  theory. 

2.  It  is  very  remarkable  that  the  speculative  theolo- 
gians have  not  seen  that  a  quality  exhibited  in  such 
perfection  by  "thousands  and  millions  without  God 
and  without  hope  in  the  world,"  "  by  the  thieves  on  the 
cross,"  and,  it  might  have  been  added,  by  any  number 
of  bloodthirsty  pirates  and  savage  Indians,  was  one  the 
absence  of  which  implied  no  want  of  moral  excellence ; 
that  it  was  a  matter  of  natural  temperament,  of  phys- 
ical habits,  and  of  the  firm  condition  of  the  nervous 
system,  rather  than  of  moral  or  religious  character. 
Moral  excellence  is  seen,  not  in  insensibility  to  pain 
or  danger,  but  in  unwavering  obedience  to  duty  in 
defiance  of  pain  and  danger.  The  greater  sense  Jesus 
had  and  expressed  of  the  sufferings  which  lay  in  his 
path,  the  greater  is  the  moral  excellence  exhibited  in 
overcoming  them.  In  order  to  satisfy  myself  of  the 
perfection  of  the  character  of  Jesus,  all  I  wish  to 
know  is  that  his  obedience  was  complete;  that  his 
grief,  fears,  and  doubts  were  momentary  ;  that  his 
most  earnest  expostulations  and  complaints,  if  so  they 
may  be  called,  were  wrung  from  him  by  causes  which 
are  plainly  set  forth  in  the  sacred  history,  while  he 
was  engaged  without  hesitation,  without  voluntary 
reluctance,  nay,  with  the  most  supreme  devotion  of 
his  will,  in  the  greatest  work  ever  wrought  for  man. 

For  my  part,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say,  that  I  have 
•  distinct  iiniVing  of  gratitude,  not  only  for  the  wock 


INTRODUCTION.  XT 

which  Christ  performed,  but  for  every  expression  of 
human  feeling,  whether  of  grief,  or  momentary  doubt, 
or  fear,  or  interrupted  sense  of  communion  with  God, 
wliich  he  manifested.  I  should  feel  that  I  was  robbed 
of  an  invaluable  treasure  of  encouragement  and  con- 
solation, if  any  one  expression  of  feeling,  whether  in 
his  words  or  otherwise,  caused  by  such  sufferings  as 
all  men,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  are  called  to  en- 
dure, should  be  blotted  from  the  sacred  record.  In  the 
midst  of  deep  affliction,  and  the  fear  of  deeper,  noth- 
ing has  given  me  greater  support  than  the  repetition 
of  the  prayer  in  Gethsemane,  once  uttered  in  agony 
of  soul,  "  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me ! 
Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt ! "  Now 
I  know  that  ''  we  have  not  a  high-priest  which  cannot 
be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ;  but  was 
in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin." 
3.  Those  who  maintain  that  the  character  of  Christ 
was  imperfect  or  sinful,  unless  he  received  immediate- 
ly from  the  hand  of  God  inconceivably  greater  suffer- 
ings than  were  occas'ioned  by  human  instrumentalities, 
and  the  second  causes  which  are  matters  of  history, 
do  not  make  it  clear  how  by  their  theory  they  relieve 
his  character  from  the  charges  which  they  have  hypo- 
thetically  brought  against  it.  If  the  manner  in  which 
Christ  endured  his  sufferings  was  unworthy  of  him,  — 
if  it  was  faulty  or  sinful,  —  if  his  expressions  in 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  or  upon  the  cross,  were 
wrong,  —  then  no  degree  of  suffering  which  the  hu- 
man imagination  can  conceive  to  have  been  endured 
by  him  can  make  them  right.  Strength  of  temptation 
can  palliate  what  is  wrong,  but  cannot  make  it  right 
Whatever  was  the  nature  of  Christ's  ijufferings,  how- 
ever great  in  degree,  and  however  immediately  they 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

were  inflicted  by  God,  still,  unless  his  memory  of  the 
past,  as  recorded  in  the  Gospels,  was  wholly  effaced, 
he  had  greater  advantages  than  other  men.  He  knew 
what  testimonials  and  powers  he  had  received  from 
God.  He  knew  that  he  was  the  object  of  Divine  love. 
He  knew  that  he  had  consented  to  his  sufferings,  and 
that  they  were  a  part  of  his  work  ;  he  had  no  sense  of 
sin  to  aggravate  them ;  he  knew  that  they  were  for 
a  short  time,  and  that  they  were  certairtly  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  a  glorious  resurrection,  and  by  endless  bless- 
edness for  himself  and  his  followers.  How  then  are 
what  Dr.  Dwight  calls  "  the  bitter  complaints "  of 
Jesus  absolutely  justifiable  on  his  theory  of  the  nature 
and  causes  of  Christ's  sufferings,  if  not  on  that  view 
which  has  its  basis,  not  in  mere  reasoning,  but  in  the 
Scripture  history,  and  which  is  set  forth  by  Dr.  Har- 
wood  and  Archbishop  Newcome  in  this  volume  ? 
If  all  the  mental  and  bodily  sufferings  naturally  caused 
to  Jesus  by  the  malice  of  the  Jews,  the  desertion  of 
bis  disciples,  and  all  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
was  placed,  cannot  justify  our  Saviour's  expressions, 
whether  in  language  or  otherwise,  then  no  sufferings 
or  torments  the  human  imagination  can  conceive  to 
have  been  immediately  inflicted  by  God  can  justify 
them.  In  fact,  the  knowl-jdge  that  they  were  inflicted 
immediately  by  the  hand  of  God  would  have  a  ten- 
dency to  make  them  more  tolerable.  Who  would  not 
drink  the  cup  certainly  known  to  be  presented  to  his 
Ups  by  the  hand  of  his  Almighty  Father  ?  I  have  no 
difficulty  in  the  case,  because  I  believe  all  the  expres- 
tiions  of  Jesus  in  relation  to  his  sufl'erings,  which  have 
been  supposed  to  indicate  a  want  of  fortitude,  to  have 
been  momentary,  extorted  from  hira  by  overpowering^ 
pain  of  body  and  mind. 


INTRODUCTION.  Xv3 

It  is  also  to  be  observed,  in  connection  with  the 
preceding  remarks,  that  what  may  be  called  the  rich 
imagination  of  Jesns,  as  displayed  in  the  beauty  of 
his  illustrations  and  his  parables,  as  well  as  various 
expressions  of  strong  feeling  on  several  occasions 
in  the  course  of  his  ministry,  indicate  an  exquisite 
sensibility,  which  no  debasement  of  sin  had  ever 
blunted. 

Without  anticipating  what  is  said  in  the  excellent 
Essays  of  Dr.  Harwood  and  Archbishop  Newcome, 
I  may  make  one  more  remark.  Injustice  seems  to  me 
to  have  been  done  to  Jesus  by  comparing  his  short 
distress  of  mind  on  two  or  three  occasions  with  what 
may  have  been  as  short  a  composure  of  some  distin- 
guished martyrs,  —  Socrates  for  instance,  —  without 
taking  into  view  the  habitual  fortitude  of  Christ.  Now 
if  any  one  believes  that  the  feelings  which  Socrates 
exhibited  when  he  drank  the  hemlock  in  prison,  as 
described  by  Plato,  were  all  which  entered  his  mind 
from  the  time  when  he  incurred  the  deadly  hatred  and 
persecution  of  the  Athenians,  and  that  no  doubts  or 
fears  or  misgivings  occurred  to  him  at  any  moment, 
in  the  solitude  of  his  prison  or  elsewhere,  I  have  only 
to  say  that  his  view  of  what  is  incident  to  human 
nature  is  very  different  from  mine.  Would  Jesus 
have  prayed,  an  hour  before  his  suffering  in  Geth- 
semane,  that  his  disciples  might  have  the  peace,  and 
even  the  joy,  which  he  possessed,  had  not  the  habitual 
state  of  his  feelings  been  tranquil  and  composed? 
Panegyrists  have  described  the  bravery  with  which 
some  martyrs  have  endured  their  sufferings  before  the 
eyes  of  their  admirers.  Jesus,  who  suffered  not  with 
a  view  to  human  applause,  but  to  human  consolation 
and  salvation,  was  not  ashamed  or  afraid  to  cxpresis 


XVIU  INTRODUCTION. 

all  which  he  felt,  and  his  faithful  biographers  were  not 
ashamed  or  afraid  to  record  it 

I  have  intimated  that  the  view  of  the  cause  of  our 
Saviour's  principal  sufferings,  which  I  have  endeavored 
to  oppose,  is  not  found  in  the  Scriptures,  nor  in  the 
general  faith  of  the  Church.  It  is  the  fruit  of  com- 
paratively modern  speculation.  For  proof  of  the  last 
assertion,  1  refer  to  the  standard  works  on  the  history 
of  Christian  doctrines.  In  regard  to  the  principal  ut- 
terance of  our  Saviour,  to  which  reference  has  been 
made  in  relation  to  this  subject,  in  the  words  of  the 
first  verse  of  the  twenty-second  Psalm,  I  cannot  agree 
with  those  who  find  in  them  no  expression  of  anguish 
or  tone  of  expostulation,  and  who  suppose  them  to 
be  cited  by  our  Saviour  merely  in  order  to  suggest  the 
confidence  and  triumph  with  which  the  Psalm  ends ; 
but  which  do  not  begin  before  the  twenty-second 
verse.  Under  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  the 
words  appear  to  have  had  substantially  the  same 
meaning  when  uttered  by  Christ  as  when  uttered  by 
the  Psalmist.  They  should  not  be  interpreted  as  the 
deliberate  result  of  calm  reflection,  but  as  an  outburst 
of  strong  involuntary  emotion,  forced  from  our  Saviour 
by  anguish  of  body  and  mind,  in  the  words  which 
naturally  occurred  to  him,  implying  momentary  expos- 
tulation, or  even  complaint.  But  that  the  interruption 
of  the  consciousness  of  God's  presence  and  love  was 
only  momentary,  both  in  the  case  of  the  Psalmist  and 
of  the  Saviour,  is  evident,  first,  from  the  expression,  My 
God!  viy  God  I  repeated  with  earnestness;  secondly, 
from  the  expressions  of  confidence  in  the  coarse  of  the 
Psalm,  which  might  follow  in  the  mind  of  Christ  as 
well  as  in  that  of  the  Psalmist;  and  thirdly,  from  the 
Ottogc  of  language,  according  to  which  the  expression 


INTRODUCTION.  XIX 

"  to  be  ibrsaken  by  God  "  merely  means  "  not  to  be 
delivered  from  actual  or  impending  distress."  The 
very  parallel  line  in  the  verse  under  consideration, 
"  Why  art  thou  so  far  from  helping  me  ?  "  is,  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  Hebrew  parallelism,  a  complete 
exposition  of  the  language,  "  Why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  ? "  So  Ps.  xxxviii.  21,  22,  "  Forsake  me  not,  O 
Lord  I  O  my  God,  be  not  far  from  me  !  Make  haste 
to  help  me,  O  Lord,  my  salvation  I "  Other  passages 
are  Ps.  x.  1,  xiii.  1,  Ixxiv.  1,  Ixxxviii.  14. 

As  the  historical  passages  in  which  Christ  expressed 
his  feelings  under  the  sufferings  which  he  endured  or 
feared,  are  of  great  interest,  it  may  be  satisfactory  to 
many  readers  if  I  translate,  and  place  in  a  note  at  the 
end  of  the  volume,*  the  expositions  of  them  given  by 
men  who  are  regarded  by  competent  judges  of  all 
denominations  of  Christians  as  standing  in  the  very 
first  rank  as  unbiassed,  learned,  scientific  expositors  of 
the  Scriptures.  De  Wette,  Liicke,  Meyer,  Bleek,  and 
Liinemann  will  be  admitted  by  all  who  are  acquainted 
with  their  writings  to  stand  in  that  rank. 

After  the  Essays  on  the  nature  and  causes  of  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  bore 
them,  I  have  selected  two  on  the  design  and  influence 
of  these  sufferings  in  the  atonement  which  he  effected: 
one  by  that  admirable  writer,  James  Foster,!  the  most 
celebrated  preacher  of  his  day,  of  whom  Pope  wrote, 
long  ago, 

"  Let  modest  Foster,  if  he  will,  excel 
Ten  metropolitans  in  preaching  well  "  ; 

and  the  other  by  Professor  Jowett,  of  whom  I  have  al- 
ready spoken.     The  two  dissertations,  taken  together, 

*  See  Note  A. 

t  By  accident  this  Essay  does  not  appear  in  its  proper  place  in  this 
Tolume,  but  will  he  found  on  page  403. 


ZX  INTRODUCTION. 

appear  to  me  to  give  a  very  fair  and  Scriptural  view 
of  the  Christian  doctrine  of  atonement. 

The  great  variety  of  theories  which  the  specula- 
tions of  Protestants  have  connected  with  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  atonement  is  alone  sufficient  to  show  on 
what  a  sandy  foundation  some  of  them  rest.  As 
sacrifices  of  blood,  in  which  certain  false  views  of 
Christian  redemption  had  their  origin,  passed  away 
from  the  world's  regard  gradually,  so  one  error  after 
another  has  been  from  time  to  time  expunged  from  the 
theory  of  redemption  which  prevailed  at  the  time  of 
the  Protestant  Reformation.  Luther  laid  it  down  plain- 
ly, that  the  sins  of  all  mankind  were  imputed  to  Christ, 
so  that  he  was  regarded  as  guilty  of  them  and  pun- 
ished for  them.  Thus  he  says :  "  And  this,  no  doubt,  all 
the  prophets  did  foresee  in  spirit,  that  Christ  should 
become  the  greatest  transgressor,  murderer,  adulter- 
er, thief,  rebel,  and  blasphemer  that  ever  was  or  could 
be  in  all  the  world.  For  he,  being  made  a  sacrifice 
for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  is  not  now  an  innocent 
person  and  without  sin  ;  is  not  now  the  Son  of  God, 
born  of  the  Virgin  Mary;  but  a  sinner,  which  hath 
and  carrieth  the  sin  of  Paul,  who  was  a  blasphemer, 
an  oppressor,  and  a  persecutor  ;  of  Peter,  which  denied 
Christ ;  of  David,  which  was  an  adulterer,  a  murdeN 

er,  &c Whatsoever   sins    I,   thou,  and  we  all 

have  done,  or  shall  do  hereafter,  they  are  Christ's  own 

sins  as  verily  as  if  he  himself  had  done  them 

But  wherefore  is  Christ  punished  ?  Is  it  not  because 
he  hath  sin,  and  beareth  sin  ?  '*  *  Luther's  theory  was 
once  the  prevalent  one  in  the  Protestant  Church. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed,  as  it  contributes  to  the 
better   understanding   of  the  New  England  theories 

•  Lather  on  GaU  ilL  IS. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXl 

which  prevail  at  the  present  day,  that  the  view  of 
Luther  was  at  one  time  almost  universal  in  New 
England.  In  the  year  1650,  William  Pynchon,  a  gen- 
tleman of  learning  and  talent,  and  chief  magistrate  of 
Springfield,  wrote  a  book  in  which,  in  the  language 
of  Cotton  Mather,  "  he  pretends  to  prove  that  Christ 
suffered  not  for  us  those  unutterable  torments  of  God's 
wrath  which  are  commonly  called  hell  torments,  to 
redeem  our  souls  from  them,  and  that  Christ  bore 
not  our  sins  by  God's  imputation,  and  therefore  also 
did  not  bear  the  curse  of  the  law  for  them." 

The  General  Court  of  Massachusetts,  as  soon  as 
the  book  was  received  from  England,  where  it  was 
printed,  immediately  called  Mr.  Pynchon  to  account 
for  his  heresy,  dismissed  him  from  his  magistracy, 
caused  his  book  to  be  publicly  burned  in  Boston  mar- 
ket, and  appointed  three  elders  to  confer  with  him, 
and  bring  him  to  an  acknowledgment  of  his  error.* 
They  also  chose  Rev.  John  Norton,  of  Ipswich,  to 
answer  his  book,  after  they  had  condemned  all  the 
copies  of  it  to  be  burned,  f  Mr.  Norton's  answer  is 
now  before  us,  in  which  he  repeats  over  and  over 
again  the  prevalent  doctrine  of  the  time:  —  "  Christ 
suffered  a  penal  hell,  but  not  a  local ;  he  descended 
into  hell  virtually,  not  locally  ;  that  is,  he  suffered  the 
pains  of  hell  due  unto  the  elect,  who  for  their  sin  de- 
served to  be  damned."  "  Christ  suffered  the  essential 
penal  wrath  of  God,  which  answers  the  suffering  of 
the  second  death,  due  to  the  elect  for  their  sin,  before 
he  suffered  his  natural  death."  "  Christ  was  tor- 
mented without  any  forgiveness ;  God  spared  him 
nothing  of  the  due  debt." 


*  See  Records  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  Vol.  IV.    Part  I.  pp.  29,  30; 
al?o  Holland's  History  of  Western  Massachusetts,  Vol.  I.  p.  37,  &c. 
t  See  Note  B. 


TXll  INTRODUCTION. 

Flavel,  a  Nonconformist  clergyman  in  England, 
whose  writings  continue  to  be  published  by  the  Amer- 
ican Tract  Society,  and  who  was  contemporaneous 
with  John  Norton,  thus  writes :  '*  To  wrath,  to  the 
wrath  of  an  infinite  God  without  mixture,  to  the  very 
torments  of  hell,  was  Christ  delivered,  and  that  by 
the  hands  of  his  own  Father."  *  "As  it  was  all  the 
wrath  of  God  that  lay  upon  Christ,  so  it  was  his 
wrath  aggravated  in  diverse  respects  beyond  that 
which  the  damned  themselves  do  suffer."  f 

In  the  Confession  of  Faith  J  owned  and  consented 
to  by  the  churches  assembled  in  Boston,  New  Eng- 
land, May  12,  1680,  and  recommended  to  all  the 
churches  by  the  General  Court  held  October  5,  1679, 
is  contained  the  following  (Ch.  VIII.  4)  :  "  The  Lord 

Jesus  Christ underwent  the  punishment  due  to 

us,  which  we  should  have  borne  and  suffered,  being 
made  sin  and  a  curse  for  us,  enduring  most  excruciat- 
ing torments  immediately  from  God  in  his  soul,  and 
most  painful  sufferings  in  his  body."  This  was 
copied  verbatim  into  the  celebrated  Saybrook  Plat- 
form, adopted  by  the  churches  of  Connecticut,  Sep- 
tember 9,  1708. 

Some  of  the  preceding  views,  for  questioning  which 
one  of  the  wisest  and  best  men  in  Massachusetts  was 
so  much  harassed  as  to  feel  obliged  to  leave  the 
Commonwealth,  are  now  as  universally  rejected  as 

♦  Fountain  of  Life  Opened,  p.  10,  Ser.  IV.  fol.  edit 

t  11)1(1.,  p.  106. 

X  This  ConfcRsion  wns  taken,  with  n  few  sli^'ht  vnrintions  in  conformity 
with  the  WcstminMer  ConfcRsion,  fmm  the  "  Saivoy  IX'cIarntion,"  that  is, 
"A  Dcchiration  of  the  Faith  and  Order  owned  and  prnefised  in  the 
Con^jfre^ational  ('hurt-hcs  in  Fn|.'hind  ;  a^jnvd  ujKin  and  conncntod 
unto  by  their  elders  and  messengers  at  the  Savoy  [a  part  of  London] 
OctolKjr  12Ui,  I65S,"  which  may  be  seen  in  "  Haiiburj's  Historical  Me* 
Borials,"  p.  532,  &c. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXllI 

iJiey  were  once  receiv^ed.  But  the  most  objectionable 
part  of  them,  in  a  religions  point  of  view,  that  which 
supposes  supernatural  sufferings  or  tortures  to  have 
been  immediately  inflicted  by  the  Deity  upon  the  soul 
of  Christ,  is  still  retained  by  many.  The  late  Pro- 
fessor Stuart,  as  we  have  seen,  supported  this  view  on 
the  ground  that  the  character  of  Christ  for  fortitude 
would  otherwise  suffer.  Many  of  the  books  indus- 
triously circulated  by  the  Orthodox  sects  among  the 
laity  contain  the  doctrine  in  a  very  offensive  form. 
The  Assembly's  Catechism,  which  declares  that  Christ 
"  endured  the  wrath  of  God,"  evidently  in  the  sense 
of  Norton  and  Flavel,  is  scattered  by  thousands 
among  the  people,  and  made  the  standard  of  faith 
in  the  principal  theological  school  of  this  Common- 
wealth. Vincent,  whose  explanation  of  the  Assem- 
bly's Catechism  has  just  been  republished  by  the 
Presbyterian  Board  of  Publication,  says :  ''  He,  to- 
gether with  the  pain  of  his  body  on  the  cross,  endured 
the  wrath  of  God,  due  for  man's  sin,  in  his  soul." 

With  the  progress  of  intellectual  and  moral  philos- 
ophy, however,  the  doctrine  of  the  imputation  of  sin 
to  one  who  had  not  committed  it,  came  to  be  held  as 
a  mere  fiction  by  many,  who  yet  retained  that  part  of 
the  old  doctrine  which  maintains  that  Christ  bore  the 
punishment  of  the  sins  of  all  mankind.  This  view 
avoids  the  now  evident  fiction  involved  in  charging 
the  sins  of  the  guilty  upon  the  innocent;  but  it  has 
no.  ad  vantage  over  Luther's  doctrine  in  reference  to 
the  character  of  the  Deity.  Luther's  theory  paid  so 
much  homage  to  the  natural  sentiments  of  justice  in 
the  human  soul,  as  to  make  the  attempt,  though  a 
vain  one,  to  reconcile  the  conduct  which  his  theology 
ascribed  to  God  with  those  sentiments.     I/uther,  with 


XXiV  INTRODUCTION. 

John  Norton  and  others  of  his  school,  felt  as  strongly 
as  any  Unitarian  of  the  present  day,  that,  where  there 
isvpunishment,  |:here  must  be  guilt,  and  an  accusing 
conscience.*  They  held,  therefore,  that  Christ  was 
punished  because  he  was  guilty,  and  "  sensible  of  an 
accusing  conscience."  But  the  more  modern  theory, 
which  holds  that  Christ  bore  the  punishment  of  all 
men's  sins  without  bearing  their  guilt,  involves  the 
idea  of  punishment  without  guilt  in  him  who  suffers 
it.  It  takes  away  the  hypothesis  which  alone  gave  it 
even  the  show  of  consistency  with  the  justice  of  God. 
The  perception  of  the  incongruity  involved  in  the 
supposition  that  one  should  receive  punishment  who 
is  without  guilt,  has  therefore  led  many  theologians 
to  give  up  this  part  of  the  old  theory.  It  was  aban- 
doned by  many  in  England  as  long  ago  as  the  time 
of  Baxter.  In  New  England,  since  the  time  of  Dr. 
Edwards  the  younger,  several  theological  writers  have 
maintained  that,  as  there  can  be  no  punishment  with- 
out a  sense  of  guilt  and  condemnation  of  conscience, 
but  only  pain,  suffering,  torment,  it  is  erroneous  to  say 
that  Christ  endured  vicarious  punishment  for  the  sins 
of  mankind.  Vicarious  pain  or  torment  might  be  en- 
dured by  the  innocent,  but  not  vicarious  punishment. 
Some,  also,  on  the  ground  that  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
bear  no  proportion,  in  amount  and  duration,  to  the 
punishment  which  was  threatened  against  sinners, 
have  even  rejected  the  term  vicarious  as  inapplicable. 
Dr.  Dwight  says  :  "  It  will  not  be  supposed,  as  plainly 
it  cannot,  that  Christ  suffered  in  his  divine  nature. 
Nor  will  it  be  believed  that  any  created  nature  could 
in  that  short  space  of  time  suffer  what  would  be 
equivalent  to  even  a  slight  distress  extended  through 

*  Soc  Norton's  Answer,  &c.  p.  119. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV 

eternity."  *  "  When,  therefore,  we  are  told  that  it 
pleased  Jehovah  to  bruise  him,  it  was  not  as  a  punish- 
ment." f  "  It  is  not  true,"  says  Edwards  the  younger, 
"  that  Christ  endured  an  equal  quantity  of  misery  to 
that  which  would  have  been  endured  by  all  his  people, 

had  they  suffered  the  curse  of  the  law As  the 

eternal  Logos  was  capable  of  neither  enduring  misery 
nor  losing  happiness,  all  the  happiness  lost  by  the 
substitution  of  Christ  was  barely  that  of  the  man 
Christ  Jesus,  during  only  thirty-three  years  ;  or  rather 
during  the  last  three  years  of  his  life."  J  Dr.  Em- 
mons says :  "  His  sufferings  were  no  punishment, 
much  less  our  punishment.  His  sufferings  were  by 
no  means  equal  in  degree  or  duration  to  the  eternal 
sufferings  we  deserve,  and  which  God  has  threatened 
to  inflict  upon  us.  So  that  he  did  in  no  sense  bear 
the  penalty  of  the  law  which  we  have  broken,  and 
justly  deserve."  § 

Bat  this  concession  of  the  more  modern  New  Eng- 
land theologians  to  the  imperative  claims  of  reason  is 
not  of  so  much  importance  as  it  may  at  first  view 
appear.  To  say  that  Christ  did  not  endure  the  punish- 
ment of  the  sins  of  mankind,  nor  indeed  any  punish- 
ment whatever,  but  only  an  amount  of  suffering  or 
torment  which,  in  its  effect  as  an  expression  of  the  Di- 
vine mind,  and  in  upholding  the  honor  of  the  Divine 
government,  was  an  equivalent  to  the  infliction  of  the 
punishment  threatened  against  sin,  is  of  little  avail, 
so  long  as  it  is  maintained  that  the  chief  sufferings  of 
our  Saviour  were  of  a  miraculous  character,  incon- 
ceivable in  degree,  immediately  inflicted  upon  him  by 

*  Ser.  LVI.  Vol.  11.  p.  217. 
t  Ibid.,  p.  211. 

J  Sermons  on  the  Atonement,  Works,  Vol.  II.  p.  43. 
i  Works,  Vol.  V.  p.  32. 
c 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION. 

the  hand  of  God  over  and  above  those  which  he  in- 
curred from  hunrian  opposition  and  persecution  in  the 
accomplishment  of  his  work.  The  concession  is  made 
to  philosophy,  not  to  religion.  So  far  as  the  Divine 
character  is  concerned,  it  is  of  little  consequence 
whether  you  call  the  sufferings  of  Chrht punishment j  or 
only  torture  immediately  inflicted  by  God  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  being  contemplated  by  intelligent  beings. 

Suppose  that  Christ  had  ordered  the  beloved  Apos- 
tle John  to  be  crucified,  in  order  to  show  his  dis- 
pleasure at  sin,  when  he  forgave  Peter,  of  what  conse- 
quence would  it  be  to  say  that  John  was  not  punished, 
but  only  tortured,  for  the  sin  of  Peter?  Would 
Christ  deserve  the  more  to  be  regarded  as  a  righteous 
being,  an  upholder  of  law,  a  wise  moral  governor,  for 
inflicting  inconceivable  anguish  of  body  and  mind 
upon  John  as  the  sole  ground  and  condition  of  forgiv- 
ing the  sin  of  Peter  ? 

How  many  of  the  theologians  of  New  England  at 
the  present  day  retain  this  theory  of  miraculous  suf- 
fering immediately  inflicted  by  the  Deity  upon  the 
soul  of  Christ,  I  have  no  means  of  ascertaining.  It 
is  not  easy  to  see  why  the  advocates  of  the  govern- 
mental theory,  after  admitting  that  the  suff*erings  of 
Christ  were  finite  and  of  brief  duration,  that  they 
were  not  the  punishment,  nor,  as  a  penalty,  equivalent 
to  the  punishment,  of  the  sinner,  should  seek  by  mere 
ratiocination  to  magnify  the  sufferings  of  Christ  be- 
yond what  the  sacred  history  has  recorded  them  to  be, 
and  to  bring  in  the  omnipotence  and  the  omniscience 
of  the  Deity  to  inflict  a  pain  which  human  malice  and 
second  causes  could  not  inflict  The  mere  amount 
of  suffering  docs  not  seem  to  be  essential  to  this 
theory.      The  Scriptures  contain,  as  we  have  seen, 


INTRODUCTION.  XXVU 

nothing  for  it  On  the  contrary,  they  seem  to  be 
positively  against  it,  in  insisting,  as  they  do,  on  the 
blood  of  Christ,  the  death  of  Christ  as  a  sacrifice, 
rather  than  on  what  he  suffered  before  he  died.  It  is 
just  to  state  that  I  do  not  find,  in  the  sermons  on  the 
atonement  by  Dr.  Edwards  the  younger.  Dr.  Em- 
mons, and  Dr.  Woods,  reference  to  any  sufferings  of 
Christ,  except  those  which  were  naturally  incident  to 
the  discharge  of  his  duty.  True,  they  say  nothing 
against  the  view  held  by  Dr.  Dwight,  Dr.  Macknight, 
and  some  recent  writers.  But  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
they  omitted  the  theory  of  miraculous  suffering,  im- 
mediately inflicted  by  the  Deity  upon  the  soul  of 
Christ,  because  they  had  abandoned  it.  May  the 
time  soon  come  when  all  the  advocates  of  the  govern- 
mental theory  shall  cease  to  insist  on  a  fragment  of 
the  old  theory  of  penal  satisfaction,  which  has  no  his- 
torical foundation,  which  is  shocking  to  the  feelings 
of  many  Christians,  and  strengthens  the  objections  of 
the  enemies  of  Christianity. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  appears  to  me  that  some 
writers,  looking  at  the  subject  chiefly  in  the  light  of 
the  principles  of  moral  and  religious  philosophy,  have 
given  a  somewhat  imperfect  view  of  the  sentiments 
of  St.  Paul  respecting  the  significance  of  the  death 
of  Christ,  by  maintaining  that  he  limited  the  influence 
of  it  to  its  immediate  effect  in  producing  the  refor- 
mation and  sanctifi cation  of  the  sinner.  This  latter 
view  is  indeed  prominent  throughout  the  Apostle's 
writings.  Christians  are  represented  as  being  bap- 
tized to  the  death  of  Christ ;  that  is,  to  die  to  sin  as  he 
died  for  it ;  to  be  buried  in  baptism  to  sin,  and  to  rise 
to  a  new  spiritual  life,  as  he  was  buried  and  rose  to  a 
new  life.    But  the  Apostle  regards  the  death  of  Christ, 


ZXTiii  INTRODUCTIOA. 

not  only  as  exerting  a  sanctifying  influence  upon  the 
heart,  but  as  having  a  meaning  and  significance,  con- 
sidered as  an  event  taking  place  under  the  moral 
government  of  God,  according  to  his  will.  Its  mean- 
ing serves,  according  to  him,  at  the  same  time  to 
manifest  the  righteousness  of  God,  and  his  mercy  in 
accepting  the  true  believer.  "  Whom  in  his  blood, 
through  faith,  God  has  set  forth  as  a  propitiatory  sacri- 
fice, in  order  to  manifest  his  righteousness  on  account 
of  his  passing  by,  in  his  forbearance,  the  sins  of 
former  times."*  It  is  true  that  the  design  of  this 
providential  event  was  still  manifestation^  and  that  the 
contemplation  of  the  sacrifice,  and  the  appropriation 
of  it  by  faith,  were  regarded  by  the  Apostle  as  leading 
to  repentance  and  sanctification,  as  well  as  to  peace 
of  mind.  But  he  contemplates  it  in  this  passage 
under  another  aspect.  He  has  what  may  be  called  a 
transcendental,  as  well  as  a  practical,  view  of  this,  as 
of  all  events.  He  contemplates  the  death  of  Christ, 
taking  place  according  to  God^s  will,  as  illustrating 
the  mind  of  God  ;  as  manifesting  his  righteousness, 
though  he  forbore  adequately  to  punish  the  sins  of 
former  times,  and  in  mercy  accepted  as  righteous  the 
true  Christian  believer.  His  view  seems  to  be  that 
God,  by  suffering  such  a  person  as  Jesus,  standing  in 
such  a  relation  to  him,  having  a  sinless  character,  and 
Bustaining  such  an  office  in  relation  to  the  world  as 
Christ  did,  to  suffer  and  die  a  painful  and  ignomin- 
ious death,  has  declared  how  great  an  evil  he  regards 
sin  to  be,  and  how  great  a  good  he  regards  holiness 
to  be ;  in  other  words,  his  hatred  of  sin,  and  love  of 
holiness.     The  greatness  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  of  the 

•  Rom.  iil  25. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXIX 

good  of  righteousness,  are  to  be  seen  in  the  greatness 
of  the  sacrifice  which  God,  in  his  high  providential 
government  of  the  world,  appointed,  and  which  in  the 
fulness  of  time  Christ  made.  Why  is  not  this  view 
of  St.  Paul  correct  ?  God  is  surely  to  be  seen,  not 
only  in  the  works  of  nature,  in  the  intuitions  of  the 
50ul,  in  immediate  revelation,  but  also  in  the  events 
of  Providence.  Especially  the  fact,  that  under  the 
moral  government  of  God  the  most  righteous  men, 
those  in  whom  the  spirit  of  God  dwells  most  fully  and 
most  constantly^  are  willing  to  incur  reproach  and  suf- 
fering in  the  cause  of  truth,  righteousness,  and  human 
happiness,  shows  that  the  Giver  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the 
Source  of  all  righteousness,  regards  sin  as  a  great  evil, 
and  righteousness  as  a  great  good  ;  that  is,  hates  sin, 
and  loves  holiness.  Much  more,  then,  if  Christ,  in 
whom  was  the  spirit  of  God  without  measure,  who 
knew  no  sin,  and  who  was  in  various  ways  exalted 
above  the  sons  of  men,  becomes,  according  to  the  will 
of  God,  and  by  his  own  consent,  a  sacrifice  for  sin, 
does  he  illustrate  his  Father's  hatred  of  sin,  and  love 
of  holiness. 

It  appears  to  me  that  Edwards  the  younger,  and 
other  advocates  of  what  is  called  the  governmental 
theory,  have  connected  with  the  view  of  the  Apostle 
Paul  two  great  errors.  One  consists  in  regarding  that 
as  the  direct  and  immediate  design  of  the  death  of 
Christ  which  was  only  incidental  to  it,  as  a  providen- 
tial event.  This  appears  from  the  fact  that  the  death 
of  Christ  is  everywhere  in  the  New  Testament  de- 
nounced as  an  evil  and  a  crime.  Of  course,  then,  it 
was  opposed  to* the  direct  revealed  will  of  God. 
Everywhere  in  the  New  Testament  we  may  learn 
that  the  direct  design  of  God  in  sending  his  Son  waa 


XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

that  the  Jews,  as  well  as  others,  should  reverence  him, 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  hear  ye  him."  "  He  that 
honoreth  not  the  Son,  honoreth  not  the  Father." 
"  Woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  man  is 
betrayed."  It  is  admitted  by  all,  that  the  direct  will 
of  God  is  declared  in  his  commands  rather  than  in  his 
providence.  Unless  the  Jews  had  acted  against  the 
will  of  God,  it  could  not  be  said  that  by  *'  wicked 
hands"  they  had  crucified  and  slain  the  Saviour. 
But  when,  instead  of  hearing  and  reverencing  Christ, 
they  persecuted  and  crucified  him,  this  event  was 
overruled  by  Divine  Providence,  so  as  to  convey  a  re- 
ligious lesson  concerning  the  attributes  of  God,  and 
his  government  of  the  world.  There  is  no  more  evi- 
dence that  the  Jews  were  instigated  by  God  to  crucify 
Christ,  than  to  kill  any  prophet  who  had  preceded 
him.  There  is  no  more  evidence  that  this  was  ac- 
cording to  the  will  of  God,  than  any  murder  which 
ever  took  place.  The  Apostle  Paul  undoubtedly  de- 
clares that  Christ  gave  himself  for  us  according  to  the 
will  of  God  (Gal.  i.  4) ;  and  that  God  had  set  him 
forth  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  to  manifest  his  right- 
eousness (Rom.  iii.  25).  But  he  uses  similar  language 
in  regard  to  many  other  events.  Thus  he  declares 
that  Pharaoh,  the  tyrant,  was  raised  up  to  make 
known  the  power  of  God.  (Rom.  ix.  17.)  But  will  it 
be  pretended  that  God  gave  existence  and  power  to 
Pharaoh  for  the  direct  and  exclusive  purpose  of  mak- 
ing known  his  power,  and  that  his  power  could  not 
be  made  known  in  any  other  way  ?  Was  it  not  the 
will  of  God  that  Pharaoh  should  be  a  just  and  bench- 
cent  sovereign  ?  It  is  evident  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  as  well  as  from  the  current  phraseology  of  the 
Scriptures,  that  the  treachery  of  iudas,  and  the  cruci- 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXI 

fixion  of  Christ,  were  not  more  immediately  ordained 
by  God,  than  any  other  case  of  treachery  and  murder 
which  ever  took  place  in  the  world.  It  is  plain,  then, 
that  the  manifestation  of  the  righteousness  of  God  by 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  referred  to  by  St.  Paul,  was  the 
incidental  or  indirect  design  of  it,  as  an  event  taking 
place  under  the  government  of  God,  against  his  re- 
vealed will.  The  crucifixion  of  Christ  declares  the 
righteousness  of  God,  just  as  the  wrath  of  man  in  all 
cases  is  caused  to  praise  him. 

That  the  manifestation  of  the  righteousness  of  God 
was  only  the  incidental  design  of  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ,  appears  also  from  this  circumstance,  that  it  is 
only  when  so  regarded  that  it  conveys  to  a  rational 
mind  an  impression  either  of  his  righteousness  or  his 
wisdom.  That  God  should  so  love  the  world  as  to 
send  Christ  to  enlighten,  reform,  and  bless  it,  tho-ugh 
he  foresaw  that  he  would  not  accomplish  his  purpose 
without  falling  a  sacrifice  to  human  passions,  gives 
an  impression  of  his  benevolence,  and  of  his  hatred 
of  sin  and  love  of  holiness.  But  if  he  had  imme- 
diately and  directly  commanded  the  Jewish  priests  to 
sacrifice  him,  or  the  Jewish  rulers  to  insult,  torture, 
and  crucify  him,  simply  that  as  an  object  of  human 
contemplation  he  might  manifest  the  righteousness 
of  God,  and  his  hatred  of  sin  by  his  infliction  of  tor- 
ture on  an  innocent  being,  then  no  such  effect  would 
be  produced  by  it.  The  Jewish  priests  themselves 
would  have  said  that  such  a  sacrifice  was  heathenish, 
an  offering  such  as  the  Gentiles  used  to  make  to 
Moloch.  All  the  world  would  say,  that  such  a  God- 
commanded  sacrifice,  such  a  direct  and  immediate 
infliction  of  suffering  by  the  Almighty  upon  an  inno- 
cent being,  for  the  main  purpose  of  making  known  liia 


XXXll  INTRODUCTION. 

dispositions,  and  maintaining  the  honor  of  his  goverp- 
ment,  was  a  manifestation  of  any  attribute  rather 
than  righteousness.  We  might  believe  an  express 
verbal  declaration,  that  such  a  direct  infliction  was 
designed  to  show  God's  righteousness;  but  in  the 
fact  itself  of  such  torture,  one  could  perceive  neither 
righteousness  nor  wisdom.  This  may  be  clearly  illus- 
trated by  an  example. 

If  a  human  sovereign,  the  emperor  of  Russia  for  in- 
stance, being  engaged  in  war  with  a  rebellious  prov- 
ince, and  having  a  son  distinguished  by  military 
skill,  courage,  and  humanity  above  all  his  subjects, 
should  send  him  at  the  head  of  an  army,  and  expose 
him  to  all  the  casualties  of  war,  in  order  to  bring  the 
province  into  submission,  and  this  son  should  actually 
suffer  death  through  the  opposition  of  the  rebels,  who 
would  not  admire  the  self-denial  and  benevolence  ex- 
hibited by  the  monarch  ? 

Suppose  now,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  rebels 
should,  by  the  labors  and  sacrifices  of  that  son,  have 
been  brought  to  repentance  and  submission,  and 
should  humbly  sue  for  pardon,  and  that  the  monarch 
should  say,  "  I  will  forgive  you,  but  in  order  to  express 
my  feelings  concerning  the  crime  of  rebellion,  and  to 
uphold  the  honor  of  my  government,  and  maintain 
the  cause  of  order,  I  must,  as  the  condition  of  the  for- 
giveness of  your  crime,  inflict  inconceivable  anguish 
of  mind  and  body  upon  my  wcll-bcloved  eon  in  the 
sight  of  all  my  subjects,"  and  should  actually  do  it 
with  his  own  hands,  would  not  the  whole  civilized 
world  condemn  such  a  monarch  as  guilty  of  injustice, 
cruelty,  and  folly  ?  The  consei  t  of  the  son,  could  it 
be  obtained,  would  only  serve  to  deepen  the  cruelty 
and  folly  of  the  father. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXiH 

The  incidental  effect  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Apostles 
is  spoken  of  as  designed,  as  •expressly  as  that  of  the 
sufferings  of  Christ.  Thus  St.  Paul  says,  "  Wheth- 
er we  be  afflicted,  it  is  for  your  consolation  and 
salvation."*  Again,  "Yea,  and  if  I  be  offered  up 
upon  the  sacrifice  and  service  of  your  faith,"  f  &c 
Again,  he  speaks  of  himself  as  "  filling  up  what  is 
wanting  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,"  f  thus  implying 
that  his  own  sufferings  had  the  same  general  purpose 
as  those  of  his  Master.  Again,  the  casting  away  of 
the  Jews  is  reuresented  by  Paul  in  one  verse  as  the 
reconciling  or  atonement  of  the  world  ;  in  another,  as 
the  punishment  of  the  Jews  for  their  unbelief.  § 

It  is  readily  conceded  that  a  greater  prominence, 
importance,  and  influence  are  assigned  by  Paul  and 
other  New  Testament  writers  to  the  sacrifice  of  Christ, 
than  to  that  of  other  righteous  men.  This  is  owing 
in  part  to  his  pre-eminent  character,  his  supernatural 
powers  and  qualifications,  the  dignity  of  his  oflfiice  as 
head  of  the  Church,  and  to  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  his  life  and  death.  He  had  a  greater  agency  than 
others  in  the  work  of  the  Christian  atonement,  of 
which,  however,  the  Apostles  were  yet  ministers. || 
He  was  the  head  of  the  Church. 

The  minds  and  feelings  of  the  Apostles  must  have 
been  in  the  highest  degree  affected  by  the  ignominious 
death  of  their  Master.  It  was  the  subject  of  the 
deepcoit  gratitude  that  the  blessings  which  they  en- 
joyed were  purchased  by  his  blood.  They  had  lost  all 
hopes  when  he  expired.  His  death  was  opposed  to 
aU  their  views  of  the  Messiah.  They  had  supposed 
that  he  would  live  for  ever.  ^     This  expectation  was 

♦  2  Cor.  i.  6.       t  Pliil.  ii.  17.       }  Col.  i.  24.       i  Rom.  xi.  15,  20. 
II  2  Cor.  V.  18.  1  See  John  xii.  34  ;  Matt.  xvi.  22. 


XXXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

probably  not  wholly  effaced  from  their  minds  till  they 
saw  him  expire.  Wheri^they  preached  the  Gospel  to 
the  Gentiles,  they  preached  the  religion  of  one  who 
had  suffered  like  the  vilest  malefactor.  The  circum- 
stance that*  the  death  of  Christ  was  so  ignominious 
was  a  strong  reason  for  their  insisting  upon  it  the 
more,  as  the  means  through  which  they  enjoyed  the 
blessings  of  Christianity.  The  cross  was  a  stum- 
bling-block to  the  Jew,  and  folly  to  the  Gentile.  The 
oftener  objections  were  made  to  it,  the  more  would 
the  Apostles  be  led  to  dwell  upon  it,  and  to  present  it 
in  every  light  in  which  it  could  be  presented.  In  re- 
flecting upon  the  meaning  of  it  as  a  providential 
event,  the  analogy  between  it  and  the  sin-offerings  of 
the  Jews  struck  their  imaginations  forcibly.  Certain 
passages  in  the  prophetic  writings,  especially  Isa.  liii., 
which  was  originally  spoken  of  the  Jewish  Church, 
were  adapted  to  impart  additional  emphasis  to  this 
analogy. 

It  is  also  very  possible  that  I  may  have  too  closely 
defined  the  meaning  of  Paul  and  other  Apostles,  in 
representing  the  death  of  Christ  as  a  sacrifice.  This 
idea  having  once  taken  full  possession  of  their  imagi- 
nations, they  may  not  always  have  kept  in  mind  the 
boundary  which  divides  figurative  from  plain  lan- 
guage. They  may  have  connected  certain  sacrificial 
ideas  or  feelings  with  the  death  of  Christ,  which  a 
modern  cannot  fully  appreciate,  or  strictly  define. 
Being  born  Jews,  familiar  with  sacrifices  from  their 
infancy,  and  writing  to  those  who,  whether  Jews  or 
Gentiles,  had  been  accustomed  to  attach  the  same 
importance  and  efficacy  to  them,  it  was  natural  that 
they  should  represent  the  death  of  Christ  in  language 
borrowed  from  the  Jewish  ritual,  and  that  they  should 


INTRODUCTION.  XXJ:V 

attach  an  importance  to  it  which  savors  more  of  the 
religion  which  they  had  renounced,  than  of  that 
which  they  had  adopted.  But  so  far  as  the  question 
whether  the  atonement  by  Christ  was  effected  by  vica- 
rious punishment,  or  vicarious  suffering,  is  concerned, 
it  is  of  no  consequence  how  much  importance  the 
Apostles  attached  to  the  sacrificial  view.  For  there  is 
no  reason  to  believe  that  in  literal  sacrifices  vicarious 
punishment,  or  suffering,  was  denoted,  or  that  the  pain 
endured  by  the  animals  offered  had  anything  to  do 
with  their  efficacy  or  significance.* 

The  other  error  in  the  theory  of  Edwards  the 
younger,  and  other  advocates  of  the  governmental 
theory,  consists  in  representing  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
as  absolutely  necessary,  as  the  ground  of  forgiveness, 
in  the  nature  of  things,  or  in  the  nature  of  the  Divine 
government,  or  on  account  of  the  Divine  veracity  in 
reference  to  the  declaration,  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it 
shall  die.  Now  in  regard  to  this  last  consideration,, 
that  of  the  Divine  veracity,  it  is  certain  that  the  threat- 
ened penalty  of  transgression  is  no  more  executed 
when  the  sinner  is  forgiven  in  consequence  of  severe 
suffering  inflicted  upon  Christ,  than  if  he  were  for- 
given, without  such  an  infliction,  in  consequence  of 
the  eternal  mercy  of  God.  For  the  penalty  was 
never  threatened  except  against  the  sinner.  Of  course 
it  can  never  be  executed  except  upon  the  sinner. 

It  has  also  been  maintained  by  the  advocates  of  the 
governmental  theory,  that  to  forgive  sin  on  any  other 
ground  than  that  of  the  infliction  of  suffering  upon 
Christ,  equivalent,  in  the  impression  produced  by  it, 
to  the  eternal  punishment  of  all  the  wicked,  would 

*  See  Christian  Examiner  for  September,  1855. 


XXXTl  INTRODUCTION. 

operate  as  encouragement  of  wickedness.  But  it  is 
not  easy  to  see  why  those  who  would  be  encouraged 
in  sin  by  the  hope  of  being  forgiven  through  the  eter- 
nal mercy  of  God,  would  not  also  be  encouraged  in 
sin  by  the  hope  of  being  forgiven  through  the  suffer- 
ing inflicted  upon  Christ,  or  through  any  consideration 
founded  on  past  historical  fact.  The  forgiveness  is 
certain  to  him  who  repents  and  becomes  a  righteous 
man  on  either  theory,  and  may  encourage  an  evil- 
minded  person  in  one  case  as  well  as  the  other. 
He  who  can  harden  himself  in  sin  in  consequence  of 
the  infinite  mercy  of  God  in  forgiving  the  penitent, 
can  do  the  same  thing  in  consequence  of  the  exceed- 
ing love  of  Christ  as  manifested  in  his  death. 

That  the  advocates  of  some  of  the  old  theories 
should  maintain  the  absolute  necessity  of  vicarious 
suffering,  does  not  appear  strange.  But  that  the  ad- 
vocates of  the  governmental  theory  should  maintain 
its  absolute  necessity  as  the  condition  of  the  forgive- 
ness of  sin,  so  that  the  Divine  mercy  could  not  be 
exercised,  and  the  honor  of  the  Divine  government 
maintained  without  it,  is  surprising.  Having  denied 
that  the  sufferings  of  Christ  are  in  any  sense  the 
punishment  of  the  sins  of  men,  or  that  they  are  in 
any  sense  penal  in  their  nature,  it  is  singular  that 
they  should  believe  them  to  be  absolutely  necessary 
in  order  to  vindicate  the  righteousness  of  God,  and 
cause  his  government  to  be  respected,  so  that,  without 
these  sufferings  as  a  condition,  the  mercy  of  God 
could  not  and  would  not  have  been  exercised  in  the 
forgiveness  of  sin.  What!  Have  men  no  reason  to 
believe  in  the  righteousness  of  God,  and  to  respect 
bb  moral  government,  unless  they  can  be  convinced 
of  the  historical  fact  that  he  immediately  and  directly 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXVU 

caused  inconceivable  sufferings  to  Christ,  as  the  indis- 
pensable ground  of  his  forgiving  a  single  sin  ?  Have 
the  unnumbered  millions  of  the  human  race,  who 
never  heard  of  Christ,  and  yet  believe  in  the  forgive- 
ness of  sins,  no  reason  to  have  faith  in  the  righteous- 
ness of  God,  and  to  respect  his  moral  government  ? 
Have  the  instinctive  faith  of  the  human  soul  in  all 
the  perfections  of  God,  the  condemnation  of  sin  in 
the  conscience,  the  retributions  of  Divine  Providence, 
the  intimations  of  a  judgment  to  come  in  the  human 
heart  and  in  Divine  revelation,  no  force  to  convince 
men  that  God  hates  sin  and  loves  holiness,  though  he 
be  long-suiTering  and  ready  to  forgive  ?  Would  all 
these  considerations  lose  their  force  with  one  who 
should  believe  that  God  could  forgive  a  penitent, 
thoroughly  regenerated  transgressor  for  his  own  eter- 
nal mercy's  sake  alone  ?  Cannot  a  father  forgive  a 
penitent  son,  without  conveying  the  impression  that 
he  is  pleased  with  sin  ? 

It  has  been  .alleged  by  Edwards  the  younger,  and 
others,  that  the  very  fact  of  the  sufterings  and  death 
of  Christ  as  means  of  manifesting  the  righteousness 
of  God,  and  maintaining  the  honor  of  his  government, 
implies  their  absolute  necessity;  because  otherwise 
they  would  not  have  been  allowed  by  the  Deity  to 
take  place.  I  am  wholly  unable  to  perceive  on  what 
principle  the  mere  occurrence  of  the  crucifixion  of 
Christ  by  the  Jews  shows  its  absolute  necessity,  more 
than  the  occurrence  of  the  murder  of  any  prophet  or 
apostle  shows  its  absolute  necessity.  But  it  will  not 
be  pretended  that  the  purposes  of  God  in  the  renova- 
tion of  the  world  could  not  have  been  accomplished 
unless  Stephen  had  been  stoned  to  death,  and  James 
beheaded,  and  Peter  crucified,  however  great  may 
d  * 


XXXVIU  INTRODUCTION. 

have  been  the  actual  influence  of  these  cases  of  mar- 
tyrdom in  the  regeneration  of  the  world.  Indeed,  to 
argue  the  absolute  necessity  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ 
from  the  fact  of  its  actual  occurrence,  is  to  argue  the 
absolute  necessity  of  every  murder  that  ever  occurred 
in  the  world.  Of  course  no  one  has  ever  denied  the 
necessity  of  the  sutterings  of  Christ  in  the  same  gen- 
eral sense  in  which  the  sufferings  of  all  righteous  men 
are  necessary,  or  in  which  all  the  evil  in  the  world  is 
necessary.  Bishop  Butler,  in  the  fifth  chapter  of  Part 
Second  of  his  Analogy,  has  shown  that  by  the  stripes 
of  righteous  men  in  general,  under  the  government  of 
God,  the  people  are  often  healed ;  and  of  course  that 
Christ  might  sufi'er  in  a  similar  way,  and  for  similar 
ends.  But  he  did  not  attempt  to  find  anything  on 
earth  analogous  to  the  theories  on  which  I  have  been 
remarking.  If  he  had  made  the  attempt,  he  would 
have  found  such  analogy  only  in  the  practice  of  the 
most  barbarous  Oriental  despots.  It  appears  to  me 
that  he  is  guilty  of  a  gross  violation  of  the.  common 
use  of  language  when  he  says,  that  "  vicarious  pun- 
ishment is  a  providential  appointment  of  every  day's 
experience."  No  one  has  ever  doubted  or  denied  the 
vicarious  punishment  of  Christ  in  the  sense  in  which 
vicarious  punishment  is  matter  of  every  day's  expe- 
rience. Every  Unitarian,  every  Deist,  would  accept 
such  a  creed.  But  this  paradoxical  use  of  language 
has  been  generally  rejected  and  condemned  by  mod* 
ern  theological  writers  of  every  name.*  It  serves 
only  to  confound  things  which  differ. 

Dr.  Edwards  and  others  have  also  argued  the  ne- 
cessity of  th(!  sacrifice  of  Christ  from  the  ancient 
sacrifices  of  the  Jews.     But  as  there  was  no  absolute 

*  See  pp.  xxir,  xxr. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXIX 

necessity  foi  these  sacrifices  of  animals,  —  as  they 
were  of  human  origin,  and  only  tolerated,  or  at  most 
sanctioned,  by  the  Deity,  —  of  course  there  could  be 
no  absolute  necessity  for  the  sacrifice  of  Christ;  though 
when  it  was  made,  its  good  effects  might  be  pointed 
out  by  the  Apostle  glancing  his  eye  of  faith  over  the 
events  which  took  place  under  the  government  of 
God.  As  to  the  verse,  "  Without  shedding  of  blood, 
there  was  no  remission,"  the  meaning  is,  that  under 
the  actual  dispensation  of  the  Jewish  law,  as  per- 
mitted or  appointed  by  God,  there  was  no  remission 
without  a  sacrifice.*  The  remark  has  no  relation  to 
the  nature  of  things,  or  to  the  absolute  necessity  of 
the  Divine  government,  but  only  to  a  usage  which 
had  passed  away. 

Some  passages  from  the  New  Testament  have  also 
been  adduced  for  the  purpose  of  proving  that  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ  was  absolutely  necessary,  as  the 
ground  of  Divine  forgiveness,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
or  of  the  Divine  government ;  such  as  Luke  xxiv.  26, 
"  Ought  not  Christ  to  have  suffered  these  things,  and 
to  enter  into  his  glory  ?  "  Also  verse  46,  "  It  behoved 
Christ  to  suffer,"  &c.  But  it  is  evident  that  the  neces- 
sity here  referred  to  by  Christ  arises  simply  from  that 
of  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy.  That  he  did  not  con- 
sider them  absolutely  necessary,  is  evident  from  his 
prayer  to  have  the  cup  pass  from  him.  See  New- 
come's  remarks,  pages  207,  210  of  this  volume. 

Allowing,  as  we  have  done,  that  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ  incidentally  illustrates  the  righteousness  as 
well  as  the  love  of  God,  its  absolute  necessity  as  a 
ground  of  Divine  forgiveness  is  not  more  evident  from 

*  On  the  subject  of  the  Jewish  sacrifices,  in  their  bearing  on  the  work 
of  Christ,  see  Christian  Examiner  for  September,  1855. 


X!  INTRODUCTION. 

any  language  of  Scripture,  than  the  absolute  necessity 
of  such  a  tyrant  and  oppressor  as  Pharaoh.  For  the 
Apostle  adopts  similar  language  respecting  Pharaoh  : 
"  Even  for  this  same  purpose  have  I  raised  thee  up, 
that  I  might  show  my  power  in  thee,  and  that  my 
name  might  be  declared  throughout  all  the  earth." 
Will  it  be  pretended  that  the  power  and  the  name  of 
Jehovah  could  not  have  been  made  known  except  by 
raising  up  just  such  a  tyrant  as  Pharaoh  ?  The  Apos- 
tle is  quite  as  explicit  in  declaring  the  design  of  the 
exaltation  of  Pharaoh  to  be  that  of  manifesting  the 
power  of  God,  as  in  declaring  the  design  of  the  sacri- 
fice of  Christ  to  be  that  of  manifesting  the  righteous- 
ness of  God. 

My  general  conclusion  is,  that  the  Apostle  Paul 
considers  the  death  of  Christ  under  two  aspects :  —  1. 
He  regards  it  as  an  event  taking  place  under  the  prov- 
idence of  God,  and  according  to  the  Divine  will,  and 
in  some  sense  a  sacrifice  incidentally  manifesting  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  connection  with  the  exercise 
of  his  mercy.  See  Rom.  iii.  21  -  26.  2.  He  regards 
it  in  its  immediate  moral  and  religious  influence  upon 
the  heart  and  life  of  the  believer.  See  Rom.  vi.,  vii., 
&c.  He  does  not  appear  to  regard  it  as  an  indispen- 
sable evidence  of  the  Divine  righteousness,  without 
which  it  could  not  be  seen,  but  only  as  a  new  and 
signal  illustration  of  it  in  connection  with  his  mercy. 
The  latter  view  is  the  most  prevalent  The  first 
view  relates  to  the  enlightening  influence  of  Chriufi 
death ;  the  second  to  its  sanctifying  influence.  In 
both  cases  the  influence  of  it  is  upon  God^s  sub- 
jects, not  upon  God  himself.  Perhaps  both  views 
arc  united  in  the  text,  ^^  He  made  him  who  knew  uo 
sin  to  suffer  as  a  sinner  in  our  behalf,  that  we  through 


INTRODUCTION.  xH 

him  might  attain  the  righteousness  which  God  will 
accept."  * 

I  have  preferred,  for  obvious  considerations,  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject  in  the  light  of  Scripture  rather  than 
of  mere  reason.  But  in  regard  to  the  sufficiency  of 
the  governmental  theory  to  satisfy  the  reason,  I  cannot 
forbear  quoting  a  few  hnes  from  a  recent  Orthodox 
writer,  the  author  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Atonement 
in  the  Monthly  Religious  Magazine,  which  has  re- 
ceived some  attention  among  us.  "  How  could  the 
suffering  of  one  human  being,  either  in  amount,  or  as 
an  expression  of  God's  feelings  towards  his  law,  sin, 
and  holiness,  be  equivalent  to  the  eternal  punishment 
of  the  wicked,  to  the  smoke  of  their  torment  ascend- 
ing for  ever?  The  suffering  of  one  created  being  for 
a  few  days  or  years  would  be,  in  comparison,  as  a 

drop  to  an  ocean We  are  quite  familiar  with 

the  answer  which  is  made  to  reasoning  of  this  kind, — 
with  the  argument,  that  the  union  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture with  the  human  gave  a  boundless  dignity  and 
worth  to  the  sufferings  of  that  human  nature,  though 
having  no  part  in  them.  But  we  are  constrained  to 
say,  that  it  never  commended  itself  to  our  judg- 
ment, or  gave  us  the  least  satisfaction.  We  cannot 
see  how  the  Divine  nature  had,  we  think  we  see  that 
it  had  not,  any  share  in  the  atonement,  if  it  had  no 
share  in  the  sacrifice  which  constituted  it ;  nor  how  it 
could  give  dignity  and  worth  to  sufferings  by  which 
it  was  entirely  unaffected.  We  have  heard  illustration 
after  illustration  upon  this  point ;  but  to  our  mind  it 
is  like  sailing  in  the  face  of  the  wind."  f  These  re- 
marks are  the  plain  dictates  of  common  sense.    I  have 

*  2  Cor.  V.  21. 

t  See  the  New  Englander  for  July,  1847,  p.  432. 


Xlii  INTRODUCTION. 

no  doubt  that  the  time  will  come  when  the  doctrine 
that  a  clear  perception  of  the  righteousness  of  God 
absolutely  depended  on  the  sufferings  "  of  the  man 
Christ  Jesus  during  only  thirty  years,  or  rather  during 
the  last  three  years  of  his  life,"  *  will  be  regarded  with 
greater  wonder  than  the  doctrine  of  Luther  and  Fla- 
vel  and  John  Norton  now  is. 

There  are  some  other  differences  of  opinion  among 
New  England  theologians,  which  it  will  be  sufficient 
only  to  mention.  Thus,  while  some  limit  the  suffer- 
ings necessary  for  the  atonement  to  the  death  of 
Christ,  others  take  in  those  of  his  whole  life.  Again, 
while  some  suppose  his  sufferings  to  have  been  only 
such  as  were  inflicted  by  the  instrumentality  of  man, 
and  arose  naturally  out  of  his  peculiar  circumstances 
and  character,  others  regard  his  chief  sufferings  as 
miraculous,  inflicted  by  the  immediate  hand  of  God, 
independent  of  those  inflicted  by,  human  instrumen- 
tality. 

There  is  also  a  great  difference  of  opinion  among 
the  New  England  theologians  as  to  what  constituted 
tne  atonement  Even  among  those  who  have  rejected 
the  doctrine  of  the  imputed  righteousness  of  Christ, 
some  make  the  perfect  obedience  of  Christ  a  constitu- 
ent part  of  it ;  others  not  Dr.  Dwight  and  some 
recent  writers  have  maintained,  with  much  earnest- 
ness, that  the  obedience  of  Christ  is  an  essential  oart 
of  it  But  Dr.  Jonathan  Edwards  the  younger,  who 
seems  to  be  followed  by  the  majority,  writes :  "  I 
venture  to  say  further,  that  not  only  did  not  the  atone- 
ment of  Christ  consist  essentially  in  his  active  obe- 
dience, but  that  his  active  obedience  was  no  part  of 
his  atonement,  properly  so  called,  nor  essential  to  it"  f 

•  Edwards  the  yonnger.    See  Works,  Vol.  II.  p.  iS. 
t  Works,  Vol.  U.  p  41. 


INTRODUCTION.  xliiS 

On  the  other  hand,  the  most  distinguished  New 
England  "writer  in  the  Baptist  denomination,  Dr.  Way- 
land,  has  expressed  the  opinion,  that  the  perfect  obe- 
dience of  Christ  was  all  that  was  essential  to  the 
atonement.  *'  In  what  manner  did  Christ's  appearing 
on  earth  have  any  effect  upon  our  moral  relations  ? 
To  this  various  replies  have  been  presented.  It  has 
been  said  that  his  unparalleled  humiliation,  or  his 
lowly  and  painful  life,  his  bitter  death,  were  of  the 
nature  of  a  suffering  of  the  penalty  of  the  law.  I, 
however,  apprehend  that  this  explanation  has  not  al- 
ways been  satisfactory  to  those  who  have  borne  in 
mind  the  character  of  the  law  which  we  have  violated, 
and  the  awful  holiness  of  the  Being  against  whom 
we  have  sinned.  Besides,  the  sufferings  of  Christ, 
considered  by  themselves,  were  not  severer,  nor  was 
his  death  itself  more  excruciating,  than  that  of  many 
martyrs,  confessors,  and  missionaries His  obe- 
dience had  been  so  transcendent  in  virtue,  he  had  so 
triumphantly  vanquished  all  our  spiritual  enemies,  and 
put  to  shame  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  that  I  know 
not  whether  anything  more  was  demanded.  *  The 
Lord  was  well  pleased  for  his  righteousness'  sake '  [his 
obedience],  for  he  had  magnified  the  law  and  made  it 
honorable.  That  this  was  the  case  would  seem  prob- 
able, because  there  is  no  reference  in  the  Scriptures  to 
his  suffering  after  death."  * 

There  is  also  a  difference  of  opinion  among  New 
England  theologians  as  to  the  question  whether  the 
Divine,  or  only  the  human,  nature  of  Jesus  suffered 
and  lied.  Thus  a  recent  writer,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dutton, 
whose  Sermon  on  the  Atonement  has  been  thought 
worthy  of  being  republished  in  the  Boston  Monthly 

*  Wayland's  University  Sermons,  pp.  147,  160. 


Xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

Religious  Magazine,  maintains  the  former  opinion, — 
an  opinion  wliich  strikes  me  as  not  only  unchristian, 
but  atheistic  in  its  tendency.  In  the  language  of 
Paul,  it  changes  "  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God 
into  an  image  made  like  to  corruptible  man."  It  is 
but  just  to  say,  however,  that  this  view  has  found 
very  few  advocates.  All  the  distinguished  New 
England  theologians,  such  as  Hopkins,  Edwards  the 
younger,  Dwight,  Emmons,  Woods,  and  others,  limit 
the  sufferings  of  Christ  to  his  human  nature.*  Nor 
has  a  different  opinion  ever  found  its  way,  so  far  as  I 
know,  into  the  confession  of  faith  of  any  church  in 
Christendom.  John  Norton  undoubtedly  gave  the 
orthodox  or  generally  received  opinion  on  this  point 
when  he  wrote,  "  The  second  person  of  the   Trinity, 

together  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 

did  inflict  the  torments  of  hell  upon  the  human  na- 
ture J'  t 

The  dissertations  selected  from  the  Commentary  on 
St  Paul's  Epistles  by  Mr.  Jowett  are  those  which 
were  thought  to  be  most  suitable  for  publication  in 
this  volume.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  insert  two 
other  dissertations  from  the  same  work ;  namely, 
that  on  Natural  Religion,  and  that  on  the  Compar- 
ison of  St  Paul  with  Philo.  But  the  former,  in  set- 
ting aside  some  of  the  usual  proofs  of  the  existence 
of  the  Deity,  did  not  appear  to  me  to  contain  such 
explanations  and  qualifications  as  might  make  it  useful 
to  readers  unacquainted  with  the  writer's  philosophy. 
The  latter  was  omitted  because,  though  learned  and 
"valuable,  it  was  not  likely  to  be  useful  to  persons  un- 
acquainted with  the  Greek  language. 

•  See  page  xxt.  t  Norton's  Answer  to  Fynchon,  p.  ISS. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlv 

Several  valuable  Essays  have  been  selected  from 
the  recent  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  to  the  Corin- 
thians, in  two  octavo  volumes,  by  the  Rev.  Arthur  P. 
Stanley,  Canon  of  Canterbury,  who  is  somewhat 
known  in  this  country  by  his  Life  of  Dr.  Arnold.  His 
work  on  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians  manifests  the 
same  scholarship  and  independence,  united  with  rev- 
erence, which  distinguish  the  Commentary  by  Pro- 
fessor Jowett. 

The  closing  Essay  on  the  Credibility  of  Miracles, 
by  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  the  distinguished  author  of 
the  well-known  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  the 
Human  Mind,  has  been  for  some  time  out  of  print. 
It  appears  to  me  to  meet  the  objections  of  Mr.  Hume 
in  a  far  more  satisfactory  manner  than  they  have  been 
met  by  most  writers  on  the  subject. 

It  cannot  escape  the  notice  of  the  reader,  that  very 
few  of  the  Essays  in  this  volume  were  written  by  pro- 
fessed Unitarians.  Most  of  them  are  by  eminent 
divines  and  scholars  of  the  Church  of  England.  But 
in  the  circulation  of  books  the  great  question  should 
be  whether  they  contain  true  and  just  views,  and  not 
by  whom  they  were  written.  That  we  have  been 
able  to  select  so  large  a  volume  of  Essays  on  very 
important  subjects  from  writers  of  the  Established 
Church  of  England  in  harmony  with  the  views  of 
Unitarians,  is  a  fact  highly  encouraging  in  regard  to 
the  progress  of  truth,  and  at  the  same  time  highly 
creditable,  not  only  to  the  independence  of  the  writers, 
but  to  the  practical  freedom  which  at  present  prevails 
in  that  church.  No  one  of  them,  I  believe,  has  yet 
incurred  any  higher  penalty  on  account  of  his  publica- 
tions than  that. of  rewriting  his  rame.     It  is  to  be 


Xlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

hoped  that  the  results  to  which  several  of  the  learned 
writers  have  arrived,  notwithstanding  the  natural  bias 
arising  from  their  ecclesiastical  connections,  will  se- 
cure for  them,  from  different  classes  of  readers,  that 
candid  and  attentive  consideration  which  their  impor- 
tance demands.  The  voice  which  comes  from  this 
volume  is  the  united  utterance  of  Episcopalians,  Lu- 
therans, and  Unitarians. 

CAV'tBiDOB,  May  7,  1856. 


ES  SAYS. 


universittI 

FAITH    AND    SCIENCE* 

By  M.    GUIZOT. 


One  of  the  questions  which  theology  has  oftenest  debated, 
—  the  foremost,  perhaps,  at  least  in  the  sense  that  it  serves 
for  a  prologue  to  all  others,  —  is  the  eternal  antithesis  of  rea- 
son and  faith.  From  the  powerlessness  of  reason  and  the 
necessity  of  faith,  certain  writers  make  the  point  of  departure 
and  the  termination  of  their  works.  The  same  idea  at  this 
time  inspires  and  fills  almost  entirely  a  multitude  of  religious 
writings,  whose  object  is  to  invoke  faith,  not  to  regulate,  but 
to  oppress,  the  reason.  I  shall  not  pretend  to  treat  this  ques- 
tion in  all  its  extent,  as  it  involves  the  entire  problem  of  hu- 
man nature  and  knowledge.  I  wish,  in  fact,  rather  to  investi- 
gate the  real  and  natural  acceptation  of  the  word  faith,  so 
powerful  and  so  mysterious,  and  exercising  such  a  different 
empire  over  the  soul  of  man,  sometimes  illuminating,  and 
sometimes  misleading  it;  —  here,  the  source  of  the  most  won- 
derful actions ;  there,  the  veil  thrown  over  the  basest  designs. 
I  wish  to  ascertain  if,  according  to  plain  language  and  the 
common  thought  of  mankind,  there  is,  in  reality,  that  oppo- 
sition and  incompatibility  which  certain  writers  endeavor  to 
institute  between  faith  and  reason,  between  science  and  faith. 
Such  an  examination  is,  perhaps,  the  best  means  of  solving 

^  Translated  in  Kitto's  Journal  of  Sacred  Literature,  Vol.  V.,  New 
Series,  from  Meditations  et  Etudes  Morales,  par  M.  Guizot.  2de  6dition. 
Paris. 

1 


2  FAITH    AND    SCIENCE. 

tlie  question  which  lies  concealed  under  these  terms,  —  of  ob- 
taining from  them,  at  least,  gUmpses  of  the  solution. 

No  one  can  doubt  that  the  word  faith  (foi)  has  an  especial 
meaning,  which  is  not  properlj  represented  by  belief  (croy- 
ance)f  conviction  (conviction),  or  certitude  (certitude).  Cus- 
tom and  universal  opinion  confirm  this  view.  There  are 
many  simple  and  customary  phrases  in  which  the  word  faith 
(foi)  could  not  be  replaced  by  any  other.  Alrao«t  all  lan- 
guages have  a  specially  appropriated  word  *  to  express  that 
which  in  French  is  expressed  by  foi,  and  which  is  essentially 
different  from  all  analogous  words. 

This  word,  then,  corresponds  to  a  certain  state  of  the  hu- 
man soul;  —  it  expresses  a  moral  fact  which  has  rendered 
such  a  word  necessary. 

We  commonly  understand  by  faith  (foi)  a  certain  belief  of 
facts  and  dogmas,  —  religious  facts  and  dogmas.  In  fact,  the 
word  has  no  other  sense  when,  employing  it  absolutely  and 
by  itself,  we  speak  of  the  faith. 

That  is  not,  however,  its  unique,  nor  even  its  fundamental 
sense ;  it  has  one  more  extensive,  and  from  which  the  relig- 
ious sense  is  derived.  We  say :  "  I  have  full  faith  in  your 
words;  this  man  has  faith  in  himself,  in  his  power,"  &c  This 
employment  of  the  word  in  civil  matters,  so  to  speak,  has 
become  more  frequent  in  our  days:  it  is  not,  however,  of 
modem  invention;  nor  have  religious  ideas  ever  been  an 
exclusive  sphere,  out  of  which  the  notion,  and  the  word,  faith, 
were  without  application. 

It  is,  then,  proved  by  the  testimony  of  language  and  com- 
mon opinion,  first,  that  the  word  faith  designates  a  certain 
interior  state  of  him  who  believes,  and  not  merely  a  certain 
kind  of  belief;  that  it  proceeds  from  the  very  nature  of  con- 
viction, and  not  from  its  object.  Secondly,  that  it  is,  however, 
to  a  certain  species  of  belief —  religious  belief —  that  it  )iai 
been  at  first,  and  most  generally,  applied. 

♦  In  Greek  vofiiCftv,  iriartCttv ;  in  Latin,  sententia,  fdet ;  in  Italian, 
erederua,  fede ;  in  English, /iiVA,  beli^;  in  German  (if  I  mistake  not). 


FAITH    AND    SCIENCE.  3 

Tims,  the  sense  of  the  word  has  been  special,  in  fact  and  in 
its  origin,  although  it  is  not  fundamentally  so ;  or  rather,  the 
occasion  of  the  employment  of  the  word  has  been  special, 
although  its  sense  is  not  so. 

It  would  but  be  a  fact  without  importance,  and  sufficiently 
common  in  the  history  of  the  formation  of  languages  and 
ideas,  if  the  true  and  general  sense  of  the  word  faith  was 
reproduced  entire  in  its  special  employment ;  but  it  has  been 
otherwise.  The  specialty  of  the  usual  acceptation  of  the 
word  has  profoundly  obscured  the  general  sense;  the  true 
notion  of  faith  has  undergone  an  alteration  under  the  notion 
of  religious  faith.  And  from  this  disagreement  between  the 
historical  senses,  so  to  speak,  and  the  philosophical  sense  of 
the  term,  have  resulted  the  obscurity  of  the  moral  fact  which 
it  expresses,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  errors  to  which  it 
has  given  place. 

In  truth,  the  words  which  express  an  interior  disposition, 
a  certain  state  of  the  human  soul,  have  almost  always  a 
fixed  and  identical  sense,  which  is  independent  of  the  interior 
object  to  which  the  disposition  refers,  and  of  the  external 
cause  which  produced  it.  Thus,  men  love  different  objects  ;  — 
they  have  contrary  certitudes  ;  —  but  the  words  love^  certitude^ 
in  ordinary  language  and  common  life,  do  not  less  preserve, 
always  and  for  all,  the  same  sense  ;  their  general  acceptation 
remains  and  prevails,  whatever  be  the  specialty  of  their  em- 
ployment ;  and  the  passions,  interests,  and  errors  of  those 
who  make  use  of  them  do  not  want,  nor  have  they  the  power, 
to  alter  it. 

The  destiny  of  the  word  faith  has  been  different.  Almost 
exclusively  applied  to  religious  subjects,  what  changes  its 
sense  has  undergone,  and  still  undergoes  every  day  ! 

Men  who  teach  and  preach  a  religion,  a  doctrine,  or  a  re- 
1  gious  reformation,  in  making  their  appeal  with  all  the  energy 
of  the  freed  human  spirit,  produce  in  their  followers  an  en- 
tire, pro  ound,  and  powerful  conviction  of  the  truth  of  their 
doctrine.  This  conviction  is  called  faith ;  neither  masters 
nor  disciples,  nor  even  enemies,  refuse  it  this  appellation. 


4  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

Faith,  then,  is  but  a  profound  and  imperious  conviction  of  a 
religious  dogma ;  it  matters  but  little  whether  it  has  come  in 
tlie  way  of  reasoning,  or  controversy,  or  of  free  and  liberal 
investigation  :  that  which  characterizes  it,  and  gives  it  a  claim 
to  be  called /m/A,  is  its  energy,  and  the  dominion  it  exercises, 
by  this  title,  over  the  entire  man.  Such  has  been  at  all  times 
—  in  the  sixteenth  century  for  example  —  the  faith  of  great 
reformers  and  their  most  illustrious  disciples,  Calvin  after 
Luther,  and  Knox  after  Calvin,  &c 

The  same  men  have  presented  the  same  doctrine  to  persons 
whom  they  were  not  able  to  convince  by  methods  of  reason- 
ing, examination,  or  science,  —  to  women  and  to  multitudes  in- 
capable of  long  reflection :  they  have  made  their  appeals  to 
the  imagination,  to  the  moral  affections,  and  to  the  suscepti- 
bility of  being  moved  and  of  believing  through  emotion.  And 
they  have  given  the  name  of  faith  to  the  result  of  this  work, 
as  to  that  of  a  work  essentially  intellectual,  of  which  I  spake 
just  now.  Faith  has  become  a  religious  conviction  which 
was  not  acquired  by  reasoning,  and  which  took  its  rise  in  the 
sensuous  faculties  of  man.  This  is  the  idea  which  mystic 
sects  attach  to  faith. 

The  appeal  to  man's  sensuous  nature,  and  the  resulting 
emotion,  have  not  always  sufficed  to  bring  forth  this  faith. 
Other  sources  have  then  been  appealed  to.  They  have  en- 
joined practices,  and  imposed  habits.  It  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  a  man  should,  sooner  or  later,  attach  ideas  to  his 
actions,  and  that  he  should  attribute  a  certain  meaning  to  that 
which  produces  in  him  a  certain  effect.  The  practices  and 
habita  have  conducted  the  mind  to  the  beliefs  from  which 
tliey  themselves  were  derived.  A  new  faith  has  appeared, 
which  has  had  for  its  principal  and  dominant  characteristic 
submission  of  the  mind  to  an  authority  invested  with  a  right 
to  n*)?u)ate  the  thotights  whilst  governing  the  lips. 

In  short,  neither  the  free  exercise  of  the  intelligence,  nor 
tlie  sentiment,  nor  practices,  have  elsewhere  succeeded  in 
producing  faith.  We  have  said  that  it  is  not  communicated, 
mod  that  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  man  to  give  it,  nor  to  ao- 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  5 

quire  it  by  his  own  peculiar  endeavors  ;  that  it  demands  the 
interposition  of  God,  —  the  action  of  grace  ;  —  grace  has 
become  the  preUminary  condition,  and  the  definitive  charac- 
teristic of  faith. 

Thus  by  turns  the  word  faith  expresses  :  — 

Istly.  A  conviction  acquired  by  the  free  labor  of  the  hu- 
man mind. 

2dly.  A  conviction  obtained  by  means  of  the  sensitivity 
(sensibilitc),  and  without  the  concurrence,  often  even  against 
the  authority,  of  the  reason. 

3dly.  A  conviction  acquired  by  the  very  submission  of  the 
man  to  a  power  which  has  received  from  on  high  the  right  to 
command. 

4thly.  A  conviction  wrought  by  superhuman  means,  —  by 
divine  grace. 

And  according  as  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  different 
faiths,  if  we  may  so  speak,  has  prevailed,  religion,  philosophy, 
government,  and  the  whole  of  society  have  been  observed  to 
vary,  simultaneously  and  by  a  necessary  correspondence. 

How  has  the  same  word  been  able  to  subserve  so  many 
different,  and  even  contradictory  acceptations  ?  What  is  that 
mysterious  fact  which  presents  itself  to  minds  under  such 
different  aspects  ?  Has  the  necessity  of  legitimating  the  fun- 
damental principle,  and  the  system  of  the  government  of  dif- 
ferent religious  beliefs,  alone  caused  the  variation  of  the 
notion  of  faith  ?  or  rather,  do  all  these  definitions  correspond, 
on  some  one  side,  with  that  state  of  the  human  soul ;  and 
have  they  no  other  irregularity  than  that  of  being  partial  and 
exclusive  ? 

These  are  questions  which  cannot  be  solved,  so  long  as 
men  persist,  as  they  have  done  to  this  day,  in  characterizing 
faith  by  its  causes,  or  its  external  effects.  It  is  in  itself  that 
the  fact  must  be  considered ;  we  must  search  out  what  is  the 
state  of  mind  where  faith  reigns,  independently  of  its  origin 
and  its  object. 

Two  kinds  of  beliefs  co-exist  in  man :  —  the  one,  which  I 
will  not  call  innate,  —  an  inexact  and  justly-debated  oxpres- 
1* 


6  FAITH  AND    SCIENCE. 

gion,  —  but  natural  and  spontaneous,  which  genninate  and 
establish  themselves  in  his  mind,  if  not  without  his  knowl- 
edge, at  least  without  the  co-operation  of  his  reflection  and 
will,  by  the  development  solely  of  his  nature,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  that  external  world  in  the  midst  of  which  his  life 
b  spent.  The  others,  laborious  and  learned,  the  fruit  of 
voluntary  study,  and  of  the  power  which  a  man  has,  whether 
to  direct  all  his  faculties  towards  an  especial  object  with  the 
design  of  knowing  it,  or  of  reflecting  upon  himself,  and  of 
perceiving  that  which  passes  within  him,  and  of  giving 
himself  an  account  of  it,  and  thus  of  acquiring,  by  an  act  of 
the  will  and  reflection,  a  science  which  he  possessed  not 
before,  although  the  facts  which  it  has  for  its  object  subsist 
equally  under  his  eyes,  or  within  him. 

That  there  is  moral  good  and  evil,  and  that  man  is  bound  to 
avoid  the  evil,  and  to  fulfil  the  good,  —  this  is  a  natural,  prim- 
itive, and  universal  belief.  Man  is  so  constituted  that  it  de- 
velops itself  in  him  spontaneously,  by  the  course  merely  of 
his  life,  from  the  first  appearance  of  the  facts  to  which  it  must 
apply  itself,  very  long  before  he  could  know  himself,  and  could 
be  able  to  know  that  he  believed.  Once  originated,  this  belief 
act8  on  the  soul  of  man  almost  as  the  blood  circulates  in  his 
veins,  without  his  willing  it,  and  without  his  thinking  of  it. 
The  greater  part  of  mankind  have  never  given  it  a  name, 
nor  formed  for  tliemselves  a  general  and  distinct  idea  of  it : 
it  does  not,  however,  the  less  subsist  in  them,  revealing  itself 
every  time  that  the  occa^^ion  presents  itself,  by  an  action,  a 
judgment,  or  a  simple  emotion.  Human  morality  is  a  fact 
which  does  not  stand  in  need  of  human  science  to  throw  light 
upon  it. 

Like  every  other  fact,  this  also  ciin  become  a  matter  of 
science.  The  monil  being  lK)holds  it<«elf,  and  studies  itself:  it 
renders  account  to  itself  of  the  principle  of  its  actions,  judg- 
ments, and  moral  sentiments :  it  assists  at  the  spectacle  of  its 
own  nature,  and  pretends  not  only  to  know,  hut  to  govern  it, 
acconling  to  its  acc|uired  knowledge.  Naturally  and  sponta- 
neously, belief  in  the  distinction  of  moral  good  and  evil  thus 


FAITH  AND    SCIENCE.  7 

becomes  reflective  and  scientific.  Man  remains  the  same; 
but  he  was  self-ignorant,  and  acted  simply  according  to  his 
nature ;  nevertheless  he  knows  himself,  and  his  science  pre- 
sides over  his  action. 

This  is  but  an  example ;  I  could  cite  a  thousand  others  of 
the  same  kind.  Man  carries  within  himself  a  multitude  of 
beliefs  of  which  he  has  the  consciousness,  but  not  the  science ; 
which  external  facts  awaken  in  him,  though  they  have  never 
been  the  chosen  objects  and  the  special  aim  of  his  thoughts. 
It  is  by  beliefs  of  this  kind  that  the  human  race  is  enlightened 
and  guided  ;  they  abound  in  the  spirit  of  the  most  meditative 
philosophy,  and  direct  it  oftener  than  the  reflective  convictions 
to  which  it  has  arrived.  Divine  wisdom  has  not  deHvered 
over  the  soul  and  life  of  man  to  the  hazards  of  human  science ; 
it  has  not  condemned  it  to  expect  all  its  intellectual  riches 
from  its  own  proper  work.  It  is,  —  it  lives  ;  that  is  enough : 
by  this  sole  title,  and  by  the  progressive  development  of  this 
fact  alone,  it  will  possess  lights  indispensable  for  guiding  its 
life,  and  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  destiny.  It  can  aspire 
higher ;  it  can  elevate  itself  to  the  science  of  the  world,  and 
of  itself;  and,  by  the  aid  of  science,  can  exercise  over  the 
world  and  itself  a  power  analogous  to  creative  power.  But 
then  it  will  be  required  that  it  should  only  build  on  the  prim- 
itive foundation  which  it  has  received  from  Providence ;  for 
just  as  all  natural  and  spontaneous  belief  can  become  scien- 
tific, so  all  scientific  conviction  received  its  source  and  it« 
point  of  support  in  natural  belief. 

Of  these  two  kinds  of  behef,  which  merits  the  name  of 
faith'^ 

It  appears,  at  first  sight,  that  this  name  agrees  perfectly 
with  natural  and  spontaneous  beliefs  ;  they  are  exempt  from 
doubts  and  disquietude  ;  they  direct  man  in  his  judgments  and 
actions  with  an  imperial  authority  which  he  does  not  dream  of 
eluding  or  contesting ;  they  are  natural,  sure,  practical,  and 
sovereign.  Who  does  not  recognize  in  all  this  the  character- 
istics of  faith  ? 

Faith  has  in  effect  these  characteristics;  but  it  has  also 


8  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

Others  which  are  wanting  to  natural  beliefs.  Almost  unknown 
by  the  very  man  whom  they  direct,  they  are  for  him,  in  a 
certain  way,  as  external  laws,  which  he  has  received,  but  not 
appropriated,  and  which  he  obeys  by  instinct,  but  without 
having  given  to  them  an  intimate  and  personal  assent.  They 
suffice  for  the  wants  of  his  life ;  they  guide,  warn,  urge  on, 
or  restrain  him,  but  without,  so  to  speak,  his  own  concurrence 
with  them,  and  without  awakening  within  him  the  sentiment 
of  an  interior,  energetic,  and  powerful  activity ;  and  without 
procuring  for  him  the  profound  joy  of  contemplating,  loving, 
and  adoring  the  truth  which  reigns  over  him.  Faith  has  this 
power.  It  is  not  science,  still  less  is  it  ignorance.  The  mind 
which  is  penetrated  by  it  has  never,  perhaps,  rendered,  and 
perhaps  never  will  render,  an  account  of  the  idea  which  has 
obtained  its  faith ;  but  it  knows  that  it  beheves  it ;  it  is  before 
it,  pr«sent  and  hving ;  it  is  no  longer  a  general  belief,  a  law 
of  human  nature,  which  governs  the  moral  man,  as  the  laws 
of  gravity  govern  bodies ;  it  is  a  personal  conviction,  a  truth 
which  the  moral  individual  has  appropriated  to  himself  by 
contemplation,  by  free  obedience  and  love.  From  that  time 
this  truth  does  much  more  than  suffice  for  his  life  ;  it  satisfies 
his  soul ;  and  still  more  than  directing,  it  enlightens  it.  It  is 
surprising  how  men  live  under  the  dominion  of  this  natural 
belief  that  there  is  moral  good  or  evil,  without  our  being  able 
to  say  ttmt  it  has  their  faith  I  It  is  in  them  as  a  master  to 
whom  they  belong  and  whom  they  obey,  but  without  seeing 
him,  and  without  loving  or  rendering  him  homage.  That  any 
cause  whatever,  revealing,  so  to  speak,  the  consciousness  to 
itself,  should  draw  and  fix  their  regjirds  upon  this  law  of  their 
nature ;  that  they  acknowledge  and  accept  it,  as  their  legiti- 
mate soven-ign ;  that  their  understanding  should  honor  itsell 
in  conteniplating  it,  and  their  liberty  in  obeying  it ;  that  they 
should  conceive  of  their  soul,  if  I  may  so  speak,  as  a  hearth 
where  trulii  concentnites  itself  to  spread  from  thence  its  light, 
or  as  the  sanctuary  where  God  deigns  to  dwell ;  all  this  is 
more  than  simple  ami  nntunil  belief,  —  it  is  faith. 
The  difference  between  these  two  states  of  the  S(ful  is  so 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  9 

real  and  so  profound,  that  it  has  been  at  all  times,  and  still  is, 
one  of  the  principal  sources  of  the  diversity  of  religions  and 
the  division  of  churches.  The  one  is  principally  apphed  to 
spread,  or  to  maintain,  general  beliefs,  fixed  and  incorporated, 
in  some  way,  in  the  habits  and  practices  of  life :  in  short, 
analogous,  by  the  mode  of  their  influence,  to  those  irreflective 
and  almost  instinctive  beliefs  whereof  God  has  made  the 
moral  condition  of  the  human  race.  The  others  have  had, 
above  all,  to  awaken  for  the  heart  and  in  the  soul  of  each 
individual,  a  personal  and  intimate  belief,  which  should  give 
him  a  lively  feeling  of  his  own  intellectual  activity  and  liber- 
ty, and  which  he  might  consider  as  his  own  peculiar  treasure. 
The  former  have  marched,  so  to  speak,  torch  in  hand,  at  the 
head  of  nations  ;  the  latter  have  sought  to  place  within  each 
man  movement  and  light.  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other 
tendency  ever  could  become  exclusive  ;  there  have  been  facts, 
beliefs  profoundly  individual  in  religions,  which  least  of  all 
provoke  their  development ;  there  are,  also,  men  governed  by 
general  and  legal  beliefs,  external,  in  some  sense,  to  their 
soul,  in  religions  the  most  favorable  to  the  interior  life  of  the 
individual.  It  is  not  the  less  true,  that,  at  all  times,  one  or 
the  other  of  these  tendencies  has  ruled  in  various  religions  ; 
and  not  only  in  various  religions,  but,  by  turns,  in  the  same 
religion  at  various  epochs  of  its  existence  ;  so  that  the  differ- 
ence of  the  two  corresponding  states  of  the  soul,  and  the 
character  of  that  to  which  truly  the  name  oi  faith  belongs, 
are  clearly  imprinted  in  the  history  of  humanity. 

Reflective  and  scientific  beliefs,  on  the  contrary,  have  this 
in  common  with  faith,  that  they  are  profoundly  individual, 
and  give  a  lively  feeling  of  interior  and  voluntary  activity. 
Nothing  belongs  more  to  the  individual  than  his  science ;  he 
knows  where  it  commenced,  and  how  it  has  become  enlarged, 
and  what  means  and  eflTorts  have  been  used  to  acquire  it ; 
and  what  it  has  added,  so  to  speak,  to  his  intellectual  worth, 
and  to  the  extent  of  his  existence.  But  if,  by  that  means, 
scientific  beliefs  are  nearer  to  faith  than  natural  and  irreflec- 
tive behefs,  yet,  on  other  sides,  they  remain  much  farther 


10  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

removed  from  them,  and  from  the  first  they  are  confiiieJ  to 
doubt  and  uncertainty.  They  measure,  and  ahnost  admit, 
various  degrees  of  probability  ;  and  even  when  they  are  con- 
fident of  their  legitimacy,  they  do  not  deny  that  they  can  be 
modified,  and  even  overturned,  by  a  wider  and  more  exact 
science ;  —  whilst  the  most  entire  and  immovable  certitude  is 
the  fundamental  characteristic  of  faith.  All  science  is  felt  to 
be  bounded  and  incomplete ;  every  man  who  studies,  what- 
ever be  the  object  of  his  study,  however  advanced  and  as- 
sured he  himself  may  be  of  his  own  knowledge  knows  that 
he  has  not  reached  the  boundary  of  his  career,  and  that  for 
him,  as  for  every  other,  fresh  efforts  will  lead  to  fresh  progress. 
Faithy  on  the  contrary,  is  in  its  own  eyes  a  complete  and 
finished  belief;  and  if  it  should  appear  that  something  yet 
remains  for  it  to  acquire,  it  would  not  be  faith.  It  has  noth- 
ing progressive,  —  it  excludes  all  idea  that  anything  is  want- 
ing, and  judges  itself  to  be  in  full  possession  of  the  truth 
which  is  its  object.  From  thence  proceeds  a  vast  inequality 
of  power  between  the  different  kinds  of  conviction ;  faith, 
freed  from  all  intellectuiil  labor  and  from  all  study,  (since,  so 
far  as  knowledge  is  concerned,  it  is  complete,)  turns  all  the 
force  o£  its  possessor  towards  action.  As  soon  as  he  becomes 
penetrated  by  it,  only  one  task  remains  for  his  accomplish- 
ment, —  that  of  causing  the  idea  which  has  taken  possession 
of  his  faith  to  reign  and  to  be  realized  without.  The  history 
of  religions  —  of  all  religions  —  proves,  at  each  step,  this  ex- 
pansive and  practiciU  energy  of  belief,  with  which  the  char- 
acters of  faith  have  been  converted.  It  displays  itself  even 
on  occasions  when  in  no  way  it  ap()ear8  provoked  or  sustained 
by  the  monil  im|)ortance  or  the  visible  grandeur  of  results. 

I  could  cite  a  singular  example  of  it.  In  the  course  of  our 
Revolution,  the  thcoreticul  and  actual  superiority  of  the  new 
•ystem  of  weights  and  mcjisurcs  quickly  became  for  some 
men,  who  were  the  nuljordinule  servants  of  an  administration 
charged  with  establishing  it,  a  complete  and  imperious  tnith, 
to  which  nothing  could  be  objcctetl,  added,  or  refused.  They 
pursued  from  tliat  time  iu  triumphs  widi  lui  ardor,  an  obsti- 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  11 

nacy,  mid  sometimes  a  prodigious  devotion.  I  have  known 
a  public  officer,  who,  more  than  twenty  years  after  the  birth 
of  the  system,  and  when  no  one  scarcely  dreamed  of  disturb- 
ing himself  any  more  about  it,  gave  himself  up,  day  and 
night,  to  extraordinary  labors,  letters,  instructions,  and  verifi- 
cations, which  his  superiors  did  not  demand,  and  which  he 
had  often  great  trouble  in  causing  to  .be  adopted,  in  order  to 
accelerate  its  extension  and  strength.  The  new  system  of 
weights  and  measures  was  for  this  man  the  object  of  a  true 
faith ;  he  would  reproach  himself  for  his  repose,  whilst  any- 
thing remained  to  be  done  for  its  success.  Scientific  beliefs, 
even  when  they  would  admit  of  immediate  application,  rarely 
carry  a  man  so  to  struggle  against  the  outer  world  as  to  re- 
duce it  under  his  dominion.  When  the  human  mind  is,  above 
all,  preoccupied  with  the  design  or  the  pleasure  of  knowledge, 
it  there  concentrates,  and,  so  to  speak,  exhausts  itself;  and 
there  remain  for  it  neither  desires  nor  powers  to  be  otherwise 
employed.  Scientific  beliefs,  accustomed  to  doubts,  to  groping 
in  darkness,  and  to  contempts,  hesitate  to  command :  without 
efforts  and  without  anger,  they  make  their  appeals  to  igno- 
rance, uncertainty,  and  even  error,  and  scarcely  know  how  to 
propagate  themselves,  or  to  act,  but  by  methods  which  con- 
duct to  science ;  that  is  to  say,  by  inciting  to  meditation  and 
study,  they  proceed  too  slowly  to  be  able  to  exercise  outward- 
ly an  extensive  and  actual  power. 

Perhaps,  also,  the  very  origin  of  scientific  beliefs  might  be 
counted  amongst  the  causes  which  deprive  them  of  that  em- 
pire, and  that  confidence  in  action  and  command,  which  is  the 
general  characteristic  of  faith.  It  is  to  himself  that  man 
owes  his  science ;  it  is  his  own  work,  the  fruit  of  his  own 
labor,  and  the  reward  of  his  own  merit.  Perhaps,  even  in 
the  midst  of  the  pride  which  such  a  conquest  often  inspires,  a 
secret  warning  feeling  comes  over  him,  that,  in  claiming  and 
exercising  authority  in  the  name  of  his  science,  it  is  to  the 
reason  and  the  understanding  of  one  man  that  he  pretends  to 
subjugate  men,  —  a  feeble  and  doubtful  title  to  great  power  ; 
and  which,  at  the  moment  of  action,  can  certainly,  without 


12  PAITH    AND    SCIENCE. 

their  own  consciousness,  cast  into  the  soul  of  the  proudest 
some  timidity.  Nothing  like  this  is  met  with  in  faith.  How- 
ever profoundly  individual  it  is,  from  the  time  it  has  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man,  it  signifies  not  by  what  means,  it  ban- 
ishes all  idea  of  a  conquest  which  can  be  his  own,  or  of  a 
discovery  the  glory  of  which  he  can  attribute  to  himself. 
He  is  no  longer  occupied  with  himself;  wholly  absorbed  by 
ihe  truth  which  he  believes,  no  personal  sentiment  any  longer 
niises  itself  with  his  knowledge,  excepting  the  sentiment  of 
the  happiness  it  procures  for  him,  and  of  the  mission  it  im- 
poses ujwn  him.  The  learned  man  is  tlie  conqueror  and  the 
inventor  of  his  science ;  the  believer  is  the  agent  and  the 
8er^'ant  of  his  faith.  It  is  not  in  the  name  of  his  own  su- 
periority, but  in  the  name  of  that  truth  to  which  he  has 
yielded  himself,  that  the  believer  claims  obedience.  Charged 
to  procure  for  it  sovereignty,  he  bears  himself,  in  reference  to 
it,  with  a  passionate  disinterestedness ;  and  tliis  persuasion 
impresses  upon  his  language  and  upon  his  acts  a  confidence 
and  authority,  with  which  the  proudest  science  would  in  vain 
endeavor  to  invest  itself.  Let  us  consider  how  different  is  the 
pride  which  is  produced  by  science,  from  that  whicK  accom- 
panies faitli :  the  one  is  scornful  and  full  of  personality ;  the 
other  is  imperious  and  full  of  blindness.  The  learned  man 
isolates  himself  from  those  who  do  not  comprehend  what  he 
knows ;  the  believer  pursues  with  his  indignation  or  his  pity 
those  who  do  not  yield  themselves  to  what  he  believes.  The 
first  desires  personal  distinction ;  the  other  desires  that  all 
should  unite  themselves  under  the  law  of  the  master  whom 
he  serves.  Wliat  can  this  variety  of  the  same  fault  import, 
excepting  tlint  the  learned  man  beholds  himself,  and  reckons 
himself,  in  his  science,  whilst  the  believing  man  forgets  and 
abdicates  himself  in  favor  of  his  faith  ?  It  is  further  necessary 
to  explain  how  the  same  idea,  the  same  doctrine,  can  remiiin 
cold  and  inactive  in  the  hands  of  the  learned  man,  and  with- 
out any  practical  use  even  in  men  whose  understanding  it  has 
illuminated ;  whilst,  in  the  hands  of  the  believer,  it  can  be- 
come communicative,  expansive,  and  an  energetic  principle,  of 
action  and  power. 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  13 

Faith  does  not,  then,  enter  exclusively  either  into  the  one 
or  the  other  of  these  two  kinds  of  beliefs,  which,  at  first  sight, 
appear  to  share  the  soul  of  man.  It  partakes  of,  and  at  the 
same  time  differs  from,  natural  and  scientific  beliefs.  It  is, 
like  the  latter,  individual  and  particular :  like  the  former,  it  is 
firm,  complete,  active,  and  sovereign.  Considered  in  itself, 
and  independent  of  all  comparison  with  this  or  that  analogous 
condition,  faith  is  the  full  security  of  the  man  in  the  possession 
of  his  belief ;  a  possession  freed  as  much  from  labor  as  from 
doubt ;  in  the  midst  of  which  every  thought  of  the  path  by 
which  it  has  been  reached  disappears,  and  leaves  no  othei 
sentiment  but  that  of  the  natural  and  pre-established  harmony 
between  the  human  mind  and  truth.  As  soon  as  faith  exists, 
all  search  after  truth  ceases ;  man  considers  himself  to  have 
arrived  at  his  object ;  his  belief  is  no  longer  for  him  anything 
but  a  source  of  enjoyments  and  precepts ;  it  satisfies  his  un- 
derstanding and  governs  his  life,  bestows  upon  him  repose, 
and  regulates  and  absorbs,  without  extinguishing,  his  intellect- 
ual activity ;  and  directs  his  liberty  without  destroying  it. 
Is  he  disposed  to  contemplation  ?  his  faith  opens  an  illimitable 
field  for  his  thoughts  ;  they  can  run  over  it  in  all  directions, 
and  without  fatigue,  for  he  is  no  longer  vexed  by  the  ne- 
cessity of  reaching  the  object,  and  discovering  the  path  to 
it;  he  has  touched  the  boundary,  and  has  nothing  more  to 
do  but  to  cultivate,  at  his  leisure,  a  world  which  belongs  to 
him.  Is  he  called  to  actiqn  ?  He  throws  himself  wholly  into 
it,  sure  of  never  wanting  impulse  and  guidance,  tranquil  and 
animated,  urged  on  and  sustained  by  the  double  force  of  duty 
and  passion.  For  the  man,  in  short,  being  penetrated  by 
faith,  and  within  the  sphere  which  is  its  object,  the  under- 
standing and  the  will  have  no  more  problems  to  solve,  and  no 
more  interior  obstacles  to  surmount :  he  feels  himself  to  be  in 
the  full  possession  of  the  truth  for  enlightening  and  guiding 
him,  and  of  himself  for  acting  according  to  the  truth. 

But  if  such  is  the  state  of  the  human  soul,  if  faith  differs 
essentially  from  other  kinds  of  belief,  it  is  evident  at  the  same 
lime  that  neither  natural  nor  scientific  beliefs  have  anything 
2 


14  FAITH   AND   SCIENCE. 

which  excludes  faith ;  that  both  one  and  the  other  can  invest 
their  characters  with  it ;  and,  further  still,  that  either  one  or 
the  other  is  always  the  foundation  on  which  faith  supports 
itself,  or  the  path  which  leads  to  it. 

See  a  man  in  whom  the  idea  of  God  has  been  nothing  but 
a  vague  and  spontaneous  belief,  the  simple  result  of  a  course 
of  life  and  of  external  circumstances,  —  an  idea  which  holds 
a  place  in  his  mind  and  conduct,  but  on  which  he  has  never 
fallen  back  and  fixed  his  intellectual  regards,  and  which  he 
has  never  appropriated  to  himself  by  an  act  of  voluntary  and 
briefly-sustained  reflection.  Let  any  cause  whatsoever — as 
a  great  danger  or  sorrow  —  strike  him  with  a  powerful  emo- 
tion, and  present  to  him  the  misery  of  his  condition  and  the 
weakness  of  his  nature,  and  awaken  within  him  this  need 
of  superior  succor,  —  this  instinct  of  prayer,  often  lulled  to 
sleep,  but  never  extinguished  in  the  heart  of  man.  All  at 
once  the  idea  of  God,  till  then  abstract,  cold,  and  proud,  will 
appear  to  this  man,  living,  urgent,  and  particular ;  it  has 
attached  itself  to  him  with  ardor,  —  it  will  penetrate  into  all 
his  thoughts,  —  his  belief  will  become  faith ;  and  Pascal  will 
be  borne  out  when  he  said,  "  Faith  is  God  sensibly  realized 
by  the  heart." 

Another  has  lived  in  submission  to  religious  practices,  with- 
out having  associated  with  them  any  truly  personal  convic- 
tion; as  an  infant,  others  might  make  a  law  for  him;  as 
master  of  himself,  he  has  retained  the  habit  of  obedience, 
docile  to  a  fact  rather  than  attached  to  a  duty,  and  not  dream- 
ing of  penetrating  farther  into  the  sense  of  the  rule  than  to 
verify  its  authority.  A  time  has  arrived  when  occasions  and 
temptations  to  offend  against  this  law  have  presented  them- 
selves ;  a  contest  has  arisen  between  the  habits  and  tastes, 
between  the  desires,  and,  perhaps,  the  passions.  What  this 
person  could  practise  without  thought  has  now  become  a  sub- 
ject of  reflection,  anxiety,  and  inward  sorrow.  To  preserve 
its  empire,  it  becomes  necessary  that  the  rule,  until  then  mis- 
tress only  of  the  exterior  life  of  the  man,  should  penetrate 
and  establish  itself  witliin  his  souL    It  has  succeeded  in  that ; 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  15 

and  to  remain  true  to  his  practices,  he  has  been  required  to 
make  sacrifices  for  them ;  and  he  has  made  them.  The  state 
of  his  soul  is  changed :  habit  is  converted  into  conviction ; 
practice  into  duty ;  and  observance  into  moral  want.  In  the 
day  of  trial,  the  long  submission  to  a  general  rule,  and  to  a 
power  clothed  with  the  right  to  prescribe,  has  brought  forth  a 
particular  and  individual  adhesion  of  thought  and  will,  —  that 
is  to  say,  what  was  wanting  to  faith. 

For  scientific  beliefs  this  transition  to  the  state  of  faith  is 
more  difficult  and  more  rare.  Even  when,  by  meditation,  rea- 
soning, and  study,  any  one  has  attained  to  conviction,  he  re- 
mains nearly  always  occupied  with  the  labor  which  has  con- 
ducted to  it,  his  long  uncertainties,  the  deviations  by  which  he 
has  been  misled,  and  the  false  steps  he  has  made.  He  has 
arrived  at  his  object,  but  the  remembrance  of  the  route  is 
present  to  him,  with  all  its  embarrassments,  accidents,  and 
chances.  He  has  come  into  the  presence  of  light,  but  the 
impression  of  the  darkness,  and  the  dubious  lights  he  has 
crossed,  are  yet  present  to  his  thoughts.  In  vain  his  convic- 
tion is  entire  ;  there  are  yet  to  be  discovered  traces  of  the 
labor  which  has  presided  over  its  formation.  It  wants  sim- 
plicity and  confidence.  There  is  a  certain  fatigue  connected 
with  it,  which  enervates  its  practical  virtue  and  fruitfulness. 
He  finds  trouble  in  forgetting  and  overthrowing  the  scaffold- 
ing of  the  science,  in  order  that  the  truth,  of  which  it  is  the 
object,  may  wholly  belong  to  his  nature.  We  might  say,  the 
butterfly  is  restrained  by  the  shell  in  which  it  was  born,  and 
from  which  it  is  not  fully  disengaged. 

Nevertheless,  although  the  difficulty  is  great,  it  is  not  in- 
surmountable. More  than  once,  for  the  glory  of  humanity, 
man,  by  the  force  of  his  intelligence  and  scientific  meditations, 
has  reached  to  behefs,  to  which  there  has  been  wanting  none 
of  the  characteristics  of  faith,  —  neither  fulness  nor  certainty 
of  conviction,  nor  the  forgetfulness  of  personality,  nor  expan- 
siveness  and  practical  power,  nor  the  pure  and  profound 
enjoyments  of  contemplation.  Who  would  refuse  to  recognize 
in  the  belief  of  the  most  illustrious  Stoics  in  the  sovereignty 


16  FAITH  AND    SCIENCE- 

of  moral  good,  —  in  Cleanthes,  Epictetus,  and  Marcus  Aure- 
lius,  —  a  true  faith  ?  And  was  not  the  religious  faith  of  the 
principal  Reformers,  or  Reformed,  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
Zwingle,  Melancthon,  Duplessis  Momay,  the  fruit  of  study 
and  science,  as  well  as  the  philosophical  doctrines  of  Descaitea 
and  Leibnitz  ?  And  lately,  under  the  idea  that  falsehood  is 
the  source  of  all  the  vices  of  man,  and  that  at  no  price,  in 
no  moment,  and  for  no  cause,  can  it  be  necessary  to  swerve 
from  the  truth,  did  not  Kant  arrive,  by  a  long  series  of  medi- 
tations, to  a  conviction  perfectly  analogous  to  faith?  The 
analogy  was  such,  that  the  day  when  his  certainty  of  the  prin- 
ple  became  complete  and  definite  constituted  an  epoch  in  his 
memory  and  life,  as  others  call  to  mind  the  event  or  the  emo- 
tion which  has  changed  the  condition  of  the  soul ;  so  that, 
dating  from  that  day,  according  to  his  own  testimony,  he  lived 
constantly  in  the  presence,  and  under  the  empire,  of  this  idea  ; 
just  as  a  Christian  lives  in  the  presence,  and  under  the  em- 
pire, of  the  faith  from  which  he  expects  salvation. 

Reflective  and  scientific  beliefs  can  be  converted  into  faith : 
the  difficulties  of  the  transformation  are  much  greater,  and 
the  success  much  more  rare,  than  when  natural  and  sponta- 
neous beliefs  are  concerned.  Nevertheless,  the  transforma- 
tion of  science  into  faith  can  be,  and  sometimes  is,  accom- 
plished ;  and  if  more  frequently  science  stops  far  short  of 
faith,  it  is  not  because  there  exists  something  opposed  and 
irreconcilable  in  their  nature,  but  because  faith  is  placed  at 
the  boundary  of  that  course  which  science  is  not  in  a  con- 
dition wholly,  and  of  itself,  to  accomplish. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  easy,  if  I  mistake  not,  to  observe  the 
fault  of  these  theories  which  I  enumerated  at  the  commence- 
ment, and  which  men  and  the  world  so  ardently  dispute.  It 
is  their  fundiuncntal  error,  that  they  have  not  regarded  faith 
in  itself,  and  as  a  special  state  of  the  human  mind,  but  in  the 
mode  of  its  formation.  They  have  been  thus  induced  to 
assign  for  its  essential  and  exclusive  characteristic  such  and 
such  origins,  from  which  it  is  possible  that  faith  may  be  de- 
rived, not  admitting  it  as  legitimate,  however,  or  even  real, 


FAITH  AND    SCIENCE.  17 

but  when  it  had  a  certain  especial  power  ;  and  rejecting  and 
denying  all  faith  when  derived  from  a  different  source,  al- 
though it  should  place  the  soul  of  man  in  the  same  disposition, 
and  produce  the  same  effects.  It  is  true  that  faith  often  re- 
ceives its  origin  from  an  emotion,  as  the  mystics  contend ;  but 
it  is  also  produced  by  submission  to  authority,  as  the  Roman 
Catholic  doctors  with  reason  say ;  and  also  from  reflection, 
science,  and  a  full  and  free  exercise  of  the  human  under- 
standing, although  both  the  one  and  the  other  refuse  their 
assent  to  this.  In  his  liberal  wisdom,  God  has  offered  more 
than  one  way  for  arriving  at  that  happy  state  when,  tranquil 
at  length  in  the  possession  of  his  behef,  man  dreams  of  noth- 
ing but  of  enjoying  and  obeying  what  he  regards  as  the  truth. 
There  is  faith  in  knowledge,  since  it  has  truth  for  its  object ; 
and  man  can  reach  it  by  the  faculties  which  he  has  received 
for  knowing.  There  is  also  love  in  faith  ;  for  man  cannot  see 
the  fulness  of  truth  without  loving  it.  The  sensuous  faculties 
and  the  emotions  of  the  soul  are  sufficient  to  engender  faith. 
In  short,  in  faith  there  are  respect  and  submission ;  for  truth 
commands,  at  the  same  time  that  it  charms  and  enlightens. 
Faith  can  be  the  sincere  and  pure  submission  to  a  power 
which  is  regarded  as  the  depository  of  truth.  Thus  the  va- 
riety of  the  origins  of  faith,  of  which  human  pride  would 
make  a  principle  of  exclusion  and  privilege,  is  a  benefit  be- 
stowed by  the  Divine  will,  which,  so' to  speak,  has  placed  faith 
within  reach  of  all,  in  permitting  it  to  take  its  origin  from 
each  of  the  moral  elements  which  constitute  faith,  —  namely, 
knowledge,  submission,  and  love. 

As  for  those  who,  rejecting  every  kind  of  explanation  and 
origin  of  faith  merely  human,  will  see  nothing  in  it  but  the 
direct  and  actual  interposition  of  God  and  especial  grace, 
their  notion,  if  apparently  more  strange,  is  at  bottom  more 
natural ;  for  it  touches  the  problems  which  do  not  belong  to 
man  to  solve.  In  the  external  and  material  world,  when  a 
powerful,  sudden,  and  unexpected  phenomenon  appears,  which, 
at  a  stroke,  changes  the  face  of  things,  and  seems  not  to  at- 
tach itself  to  their  ordinary  course,  nor  to  explain  itself  by 

2* 


18  PAITH  AND    SCIENCE. 

their  anterior  state,  man  instantly  refers  it  to  a  real  and  par- 
ticular act  of  the  will  of  the  Master  of  the  World.  The 
presence  of  God  can  alone  explain  for  man  that  which  strikes 
his  imagination  and  escapes  his  reason ;  and  where  science 
and  experience  cannot  reach,  there  he  assigns  an  especial  and 
immediate  act  of  God.  Thus  the  thunderbolt,  the  tempest, 
earthquakes,  vast  floods,  concussions,  and  extraordinary  revo- 
lutions of  the  globe,  have  been  taken  for  signs  and  effects  of 
the  direct  action  of  God,  up  to  the  time  when  man  has  dis- 
covered for  them  a  place  and  an  explanation  in  the  general 
course  of  facts  and  their  laws.  The  same  want  and  the  same 
inclination  rule  man  in  the  ideas  he  has  formed  about  the  in- 
terior world,  and  the  phenomena  of  which  he  himself  is  the 
theatre  and  the  witness.  When  a  great  change  and  moral 
revolution  have  been  accomplished  in  his  soul,  when  he  per- 
ceives himself  to  be  illummated  by  a  light,  and  warmed  by  a 
fire,  hitherto  unknown,  —  he  has  taken  no  notice  of  the  myste- 
rious progress,  the  slow  and  concealed  action,  of  ideas,  senti- 
ments, and  influences  which  were  probably  for  a  long  time 
preparing  him  for  this  state.  He  cannot  attribute  it  to  an  act 
of  his  own  will ;  and  he  knows  not  how,  so  to  speak,  to  trace 
back  the  course  of  his  interior  life  for  the  purpose  of  discov- 
ering its  origin.  He  refers  it,  therefore,  to  a  divine  will, 
special  and  actual.  Grace  alone  could  have  produced  this 
revolution  in  his  soul,  for  lie  himself  did  not  make  it,  nor  does 
he  know  how  it  was  produced.  The  birth  of  faith,  above  all 
when  it  proceeds  from  natural  and  irreflective  beliefs  which 
pass,  without  the  intervention  of  science,  to  this  new  state, 
often  bears  this  character  of  a  sudden  revolution,  unforeseen 
and  obscure  for  him  who  undergoes  it.  It  is,  then,  very  plain 
that  the  idea  of  the  direct  interposition  of  God  has  been  in- 
voked on  this  occasion.  In  the  sense  which  people  have  com- 
monly attributed  to  this  idea,  it  withdraws  itself  and  retires, 
here  a«  elsewhere,  before  a  more  attentive  study  and  a  mor« 
complete  knowledge  of  fjicts,  their  connection,  and  their  laws. 
We  are  led  to  acknowledge  that  this  state  of  the  soul,  which 
is  called  faithy  is  tlie  development — differently  conducted, 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  19 

sometimes  sudden  and  sometimes  progressive,  but  always 
natural  —  of  certain  anterior  facts,  with  which,  although  essen- 
tially distinct,  it  is  connected  by  an  intimate  and  necessary  tie. 
But  supposing  this  recognized,  and  faith  thus  conducted  to  the 
place  which  belongs  to  it  in  the  general  and  regular  course 
of  moral  phenomena,  a  grand  question  always  remains,  the 
question  lying  hid  at  the  bottom  of  the  doctrine  of  grace,  and 
which  indirectly  this  doctrine  attempts  to  solve.  In  ceasing  to 
see  God  in  the  tempest  and  thunder,  narrow  and  weak  minds 
figure  to  themselves  that  they  shall  no  more  meet  with  him, 
and  that  they  shall  nowhere  any  more  have  need  of  him.  But 
the  First  Cause  hovers  over  all  second  causes,  and  over  all  facts 
and  their  laws.  When  all  the  secrets  of  the  universe  shall  have 
unveiled  themselves  to  human  science,  the  universe  will  yet 
be  a  secret  to  it ;  and  God  appears  to  withdraw  himself  from 
before  it,  only  to  invite  and  constrain  it  to  elevate  itself  more 
and  more  towards  himself.  In  the  science  of  the  moral  world 
the  same  thing  happens.  When  people  shall  have  ceased  every 
moment  to  invoke  grace,  and  grace  alone,  to  explain  faith,  it 
will  always  remain  to  be  learnt  what  power  presides  over  the 
life  of  the  soul ;  how  truth  reveals  itself  to  man,  who  is  un- 
able either  to  seize  or  reject  it,  according  to  his  own  will ; 
from  whence  comes  that  fire  whose  hearth  is  evidently  ex- 
ternal to  himself;  what  relations  and  communications  exist 
between  God  and  man ;  what,  in  short,  in  the  interior  life  of 
the  human  soul,  is  the  share  of  its  own  activity  and  freedom, 
and  what  it  must  attribute  to  that  action  which  proceeds  from 
without,  and  to  that  influence  from  on  high  which  the  pride  or 
the  levity  of  the  human  mind  endeavors  not  to  know.  This 
is  the  grand  problem,  the  problem  that  presents  itself  the 
moment  we  touch  that  point  where  the  things  of  earth  and 
man  are  joined  to  that  higher  order  on  which  man  and  the 
earth  so  clearly  depend.  The  doctrine  of  grace  is  one  of  the 
attempts  of  the  human  mind  to  solve  it.  The  solution,  at 
least  in  my  opinion,  is  beyond  the  limits  assigned  to  human 
knowledge. 

I  have  endeavored  to  determine  with  precision  what  faith 


20  FAITH  AKD    SCIENCE. 

is  in  itself,  independently  of  its  object ;  I  have  laid  down  tho 
characteristics  of  this  state  of  the  soul,  and  the  different  patlis 
by  which  man  can  be  conducted  to  it,  whatever  may  be,  so  to 
speak,  its  materials.  By  this  means  we  may  be  able  to  suc- 
ceed in  ascertaining  the  true  nature  of  faith,  and  in  bringing 
it  into  clearer  light,  disengaging  from  every  foreign  element 
the  moral  fact  concealed  under  this  name.  I  hasten  to  add, 
nevertheless,  that  this  moral  fact  is  not  produced  indifferently 
in  all  cases ;  that  all  human  beliefs,  whether  natural  or  scien- 
tific, are  not  equally  susceptible  of  passing  from  the  condition 
of  faith ;  and  that,  in  the  vast  field  where  human  thought  is 
exercised,  there  are  objects  especially  calculated  to  awaken  a 
conviction  of  this  kind,  to  become  materials  for  faith. 

This  is  a  fact  which  is  attested  even  by  the  history  of  the 
word,  and  which  I  noticed  at  the  beginning ;  its  common  ac- 
ceptation is  also  special.  At  first  sight,  it  seems  to  be  exclu- 
sively consecrated  to  religious  belief;  and  although  it  lends 
itself  to  other  uses,  and  although,  even  in  our  own  days,  its 
sphere  seems  to  be  enlarged,  it  is  evident  that,  in  a  multitude 
of  cases  where  it  is  concerned  (for  example,  with  geography, 
botany,  technology,  &c),  the  word  faith  is  out  of  place  ;  that 
is  to  say,  the  moral  state  to  which  this  word  corresponds  is 
not  produced  by  such  subjects. 

As  faith  has  it«  peculiar  interior  characteristics,  so  it  has 
also  its  exterior  necessary  conditions ;  and  it  is  distinguished 
from  other  modes  of  belief  of  man,  not  only  by  it8  nature, 
but  by  its  object. 

But  what  are  the  conditions,  and  what  is  tlie  external 
sphere,  of  faith  ? 

Up  to  a  certain  point  we  can  determine  and  catch  glimpses 
of  them,  from  the  very  nature  of  this  state  of  the  soul,  and  its 
effects.  A  belief  so  complete,  so  accomplished,  that  all  intel- 
lectual labor  seems  to  have  reached  its  termination,  and  that 
man,  wholly  united  with  tlie  truth  of  which  he  thinks  himself 
to  be  in  possession,  loses  all  thought  of  the  path  which  has 
conducted  him  to  it,  —  so  {)owerful,  tliat  it  takes  possession  of 
the  exterior  activity,  as  well  as  of  the  human  mind,  and  makes 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  21 

Bubniission  to  its  empire  in  all  things  a  passionate  necessity, 
as  well  as  a  duty,  —  an  intellectual  state,  which  can  be  the 
fruit,  not  only  of  the  exercise  of  the  reason,  but  also  of  a 
powerful  emotion,  and  of  a  long  submission  to  certain  prac- 
tices, and  in  the  midst  of  which,  when  it  has  been  once  de- 
veloped, the  three  grand  human  faculties  are  actively  em- 
ployed, and  at  the  same  time  satisfied,  —  the  sensibility,  the 
intelligence,  and  the  will ;  —  such  a  condition  of  soul,  and  such 
a  belief,  demand  in  some  sort  occasions  worthy  of  it,  and  must 
be  produced  by  subjects  which  embrace  the  entire  man,  and 
put  into  play  all  his  faculties,  and  answer  to  all  the  demands 
of  his  moral  nature,  and  have  a  right,  in  turn,  to  his  devoted- 
ness. 

Intellectual  beauty,  and  practical  importance,  appear  then, 
a  priori,  to  be  the  characteristics  of  the  ideas  proper  for 
becoming  the  materials  of  faith.  An  idea  which  should  pre- 
sent itself  as  true,  but  at  the  same  time  without  arresting  by 
the  extent  and  the  gravity  of  its  consequences,  would  produce 
certitude  ;  hxxi  faith  would  not  spring  from  it.  And  so  prac- 
tical merit  —  the  usefulness  of  an  idea  —  would  not  suffice  for 
begetting  faith ;  it  must  also  draw  attention  by  the  pure  beauty 
of  truth.  In  other  words,  in  order  that  a  simple  belief,  natural 
or  scientific,  should  become  faith,  it  is  necessary  that  its  ob- 
ject should  be  able  to  procure  the  pleasures  of  activity,  as 
well  as  of  contemplation,  that  it  may  awaken  within  the 
double  sentiment  of  its  high  origin  and  power ;  in  short,  that 
it  should  present  itself  before  man's  eyes  as  the  mediator 
between  the  moral  and  the  ideal  world,  —  as  the  missionary 
charged  with  modelling  the  one  on  the  other,  and  of  uniting 
them. 

Facts  fully  confirm  these  inductions,  drawn  from  the  mere 
nature  of  the  moral  phenomenon  I  am  studying.  Whether 
we  regard  the  history  of  the  human  race,  or  whether  we 
penetrate  into  the  soul  of  the  individual,  we  see  faith  through- 
out applying  itself  to  objects  in  which  the  two  aforesaid  con- 
ditions are  united.  And  if  sometimes  the  one  or  the  other 
of  these  conditions  is   wanting,  —  if,  on  some  occasions,  the 


22  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

object  of  faith  should  appear  in  itself  denuded  of  ideal 
beauty  or  practical  importance,  —  we  may  hold  it  for  certain, 
tliat  it  is  not  so  in  the  thought  of  the  behever.  He  will  have 
fioon  discovered,  from  the  truth  which  is  the  object  of  his  faitli, 
consequences  and  applications  which  for  others  are  obscure 
and  distant,  but  for  him  clear  and  infallible.  Before  long  his 
ideas,  which  appear  to  have  but  one  aim  and  one  useful  merit, 
will  be  elevated  in  his  mind  to  the  rank  of  a  disinterested 
theory,  and  will  possess  in  his  eyes  all  the  dignity  and  all  the 
charm  of  truth.  It  is  possible  that  the  behever  is  deceived, 
and  that  he  exaggerates  the  practical  worth  or  intellectual 
beauty  of  his  idea ;  but  even  his  error,  agreeing  in  this  with 
the  reason  and  experience  of  the  whole  human  race,  is  but  a 
new  proof  of  the  necessity  of  these  two  conditions  for  the 
production  of  faith. 

We  can  understand,  however,  why  the  name  o^  faith  is 
almost  the  exclusive  privilege  of  rehgious  beUefs :  these  are, 
in  fact,  those  whose  object  possesses  in  the  highest  degree  the 
two  characters  which  excite  the  development  of  faith.  Many 
scientific  notions  are  beautiful  and  fruitful  in  their  appUca- 
tion ;  political  theories  may  forcibly  strike  the  mind  by  the 
purity  of  their  principles  and  the  grandeur  of  their  results ; 
moral  doctrines  are  yet  more  surely  and  generally  invented 
with  this  twofold  power ;  and  either  has  often  awoke  faith  in 
the  soul  of  man.  Nevertheless,  in  order  to  receive  a  clear 
and  lively  impression,  sometimes  of  their  mtellectual  beauty 
and  sometimes  of  their  prac'tical  importance,  there  is  almost 
always  required  a  certain  amount  of  science,  or  sagacity,  or, 
at  all  events,  a  certain  turn  of  public  manners  and  the  social 
state,  which  are  not  the  portion  of  all  men,  nor  of  all  times. 
Ileligious  beliefs  have  no  need  of  any  such  aids ;  they  cany 
with  themselves,  and  in  their  simple  nature,  their  infallible 
means  for  effect  As  soon  as  they  penetrate  into  the  heart  of 
man,  however  bounded  in  other  respects  may  be  the  develop- 
ment of  his  intelligence,  however  rude  and  inferior  may  be 
his  condition,  they  will  appear  to  him  as  truths  at  once  sub- 
lime aod  oommon,  which  are  applicable  to  all  the  details  of 


FAITH   AND    SCIENCE.  23 

his  earthly  existence,  and  open  for  him  those  high  regions, 
and  those  treasures  of  intellectual  life,  which,  without  theii 
light,  he  would  never  have  known.  They  exercise  over  him 
the  charm  of  truth  the  most  pure,  and  the  empire  of  interest 
the  most  powerful.  Can  we  be  astonished  that,  as  soon  as 
they  exist,  their  passage  to  the  state  of  faith  should  be  so 
rapid,  and  so  general  ? 

There  is  yet  another  reason  more  hidden,  but  not  less 
decisive,  and  which  I  regret  I  can  only  refer  to  ;  —  the  object 
of  religious  beliefs  is,  in  a  certain  and  large  measure,  inacces- 
sible to  human  science.  It  can  verify  their  reality;  it  can 
reach  even  to  the  limits  of  this  mysterious  world,  and  assure 
itself  that  there  are  facts  to  which  the  destiny  of  man  infallibly 
attaches  itself;  but  it  is  not  permitted  to  reach  these  facts 
themselves,  so  as  to  submit  them  to  its  examination.  Struck 
by  this  impossibility,  more  than  one  philosopher  has  concluded 
that  there  was  nothing  in  them,  since  reason  could  perceive 
nothing,  and  that  religious  beliefs  address  themselves  but  to 
the  fancy.  Others,  blinded  by  their  impotence,  have  tardily 
sprung  forward  towards  the  sphere  of  superhuman  things, 
and,  as  though  they  had  succeeded  in  penetrating  into  it,  have 
described  facts,  solved  problems,  and  assigned  laws.  It  is 
difficult  to  say  which  mind  is  the  most  foolishly  proud,  that 
which  maintains  that  what  it  cannot  know  is  not,  or  that 
which  pretends  to  be  capable  of  knowing  all  that  is.  What- 
ever may  be  the  case,  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  assertion 
has  ever  obtained  for  a  single  day  the  avowal  of  the  human 
race  ;  its  instinct  and  practices  have  constantly  disavowed  the 
nothing  of  the  incredulous,  and  the  confidence  of  theologians. 
In  spite  of  the  first,  it  has  persisted  in  believing  in  the  exist- 
ence of  an  unknown  world,  and  in  the  reality  of  those  rela- 
tions which  hold  mankind  ^nited  to  it ;  and  notwithstanding 
the  power  of  the  second,  it  has  refused  to  admit  that  they 
have  attained  the  object,  and  lifted  the  veil ;  and  it  has  con- 
tinued to  agitate  the  same  problems,  and  to  pursue  the  same 
truths,  as  ardently  and  laboriously  as  at  the  first  day,  and  as 
if  nothing  had  yet  been  done. 


24  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

See,  then,  what,  in  this  respect,  is  the  situation  of  man. 
Natural  and  spontaneous  religious  beliefs  are  produced  in 
him,  which,  by  reason  of  their  object,  tend  at  once  towards 
the  state  of  faith.  They  can  arrive  at  it  by  means  foreign 
to  reasoning  and  science,  —  by  the  emotions  and  by  practices ; 
and  the  transition  is  often  thus  actually  brought  about.  One 
other  way  appears  open  before  man.  Religious  beliefs  natu- 
rally awaken  within  him  the  want  of  science,  which  not  only 
desires  to  render  an  account  of  them,  but  a'^pires  to  go  much 
farther  than  they  can  conduct  it,  to  know  truly  this  world  of 
mysteries,  of  which  they  afford  it  glimpses.  Oftentimes, 
though,  if  I  mistake  not,  wrongly,  it  flatters  itself  it  has  suc- 
ceeded ;  and  thus  theology,  or  the  science  of  divine  things,  is 
formed,  which  is  the  origin  of  that  rational  and  learned  faith, 
of  which  so  many  illustrious  examples  do  not  permit  us  to 
contest  the  reality.  Often,  also,  man,  by  his  own  confession, 
fails  in  his  enterprise  ;  the  science  which  he  has  pursued  after 
resists  his  most  skilful  endeavors,  and  then  he  falls  into  doubt 
and  confusion,  —  he  sees  those  natural  and  irreflective  beliefs 
darkened,  which  served  him  for  his  starting-point ;  or,  in  fact, 
despairing  of  the  variety  of  his  attempts,  and  always  tor- 
mented by  the  want  of  that  faith  which  he  has  promised  him- 
self to  establish  by  science,  he  returns  to  his  early  beliefs,  and 
requires  of  them  to  conduct  him  to  faith,  without  the  help  of 
science ;  that  is  to  say,  by  the  exaltation  of  his  sensuous 
faculties,  or  by  submission  to  a  legal  power,  the  depository 
of  the  truth  which  his  reason  cannot  seize. 

Theology  itself,  from  the  moment  when  it  announces  itself 
as  a  science  of  the  relations  of  God  with  man  and  the  world, 
and  presents  to  the  human  mind  its  solutions  of  tlie  religious 
problems  which  besiege  it,  proclaims  nothing  less  ttian  that 
these  problems  are  impenetrably  mysteries,  and  tliat  tliis 
science  is  interdicted  to  human  reason  ;  and  that  faith,  born 
of  love,  submission,  or  grace,  is  alone  able  to  open  the  under- 
standing to  truths,  which,  however,  tlieologians  undertiike  to 
reduce  to  systematic  doctrine,  in  order  to  be  able  to  teach  or 
demonstrate  them  to  the  reason.    To  such  an  extent  does  a 


FAITH    AND    SCIENCE.  25 

feeling  of  the  powerlessness  of  human  science,  in  this  matter, 
remain  imprinted  upon  him  in  fact ;  although  everywhere 
man  appears  to  boast  himself  of  having  escaped  it. 

Thus,  also,  is  explained  that  obscure  physiognomy,  if  I  may 
so  express  myself,  which  appears  to  be  inherent  in  the  word 
faith,  and  which  has  so  often  made  it  an  object  of  a  kind  of 
distrust  and  dislike  to  strict  and  free  minds.  Frequent  above 
all  within  the  religious  domain,  and  there  oftentimes  invoked 
by  the  powerful  and  learned,  sometimes  for  the  purpose  of 
making  up  for  the  silence  of  the  reason,  and  sometimes  for 
the  purpose  of  constraining  the  reason  to  be  silent,  faith  has 
been  considered  only  under  this  point  of  view,  and  judged  only 
after  the  employment  to  which  it  lends  itself  on  this  occa- 
sion. People  have  concluded  that  this  belief  was  essentially 
irrational,  bUnd,  and  the  fruit  of  ungovemed  imaginations ; 
or  else  imposed  by  force,  or  fraud,  on  the  weakness  or  ser- 
vility of  the  mind.  K  I  have  truly  observed  and  described 
the  nature  of  that  which  bears  the  name  of  faith,  the  error 
is  evident.  On  the  contrary,  faith  is  the  aim  and  boundary 
of  human  knowledge,  the  definite  state  to  which  man  aspires 
in  his  progress  towards  truth.  He  begins  his  intellectual 
career  with  spontaneous  and  irreflective  beliefs  ;  at  its  termi- 
nation is  faith.  There  is  more  than  one  way  —  but  none 
certain  —  for  leaping  over  this  interval ;  but  it  is  only  when 
it  has  been  leaped  over,  and  when  belief  has  become  faith, 
that  man  feels  his  nature  to  be  fully  satisfied,  and  gives  him- 
self up  wholly  to  his  mission.  Legitimate  faith,  that  is  to  say, 
that  which  is  not  mistaken  in  its  object,  and  addresses  itself 
really  to  the  truth,  is  then  the  most  elevated  and  most  perfect 
state  to  which,  in  its  actual  condition,  the  human  mind  can 
arrive.  But  faith  may  be  illegitimate  ;  it  may  be  the  state 
of  mind  which  error  has  produced.  The  chance  of  error 
(experience  at  every  step  proves  it)  is  here  even  much 
greater,  as  the  paths  which  lead  to  it  are  more  multiplied,  and 
its  effects  more  powerful.  Man  may  be  misled  in  his  faith 
by  feelings,  habits,  and  the  empire  of  the  moral  affections,  or 
of  external  circumstances,  as  well  as  by  the  insufficiency  or 
3 


26  FAITH   AND    SCIENCE. 

the  bad  employment  of  his  intellectual  faculties ;  for  faith  can 
take  its  origin  from  these  different  sources.  And,  neverthe- 
less, from  the  time  of  its  existence,  faith  is  hardy  and  am- 
bitious ;  it  aspires  passionately  to  expand  itself,  to  invade,  to 
rule,  and  to  become  the  law  both  of  minds  and  facts.  And 
not  only  is  it  ambitious,  but  bold ;  it  possesses  and  displays, 
for  the  support  of  its  pretensions  and  designs,  an  energy, 
address,  and  perseverance,  which  are  wanting  to  almost  all 
scientific  opinions.  So  that  there  is  in  this  mode  of  belief,  far 
more  than  in  any  other,  chance  of  error  for  the  individual, 
and  chance  of  oppression  for  society.  For  these  perils  there 
is  but  one  remedy,  —  liberty.  Whether  man  beheves,  or  acts, 
his  nature  is  the  same ;  and  to  avoid  becoming  absurd  or 
guilty,  his  thought  stands  in  need  of  constant  opposition  and 
constraint,  as  well  as  his  will.  Where  faith  is  wanting,  there 
power  and  moral  dignity  are  equally  wanting ;  where  liberty 
is  wanting,  faith  usurps,  then  misleads,  and  at  length  is  lost. 
Let  human  beliefs  pass  into  the  state  of  faith ;  it  is  their 
natural  progress  and  their  glory  ;  and  in  their  effort  towards 
this  object,  and  when  they  have  reached  it,  let  them  constant- 
ly continue  under  the  control  of  the  free  intellect ;  it  is  the 
guaranty  of  society  against  tyranny,  and  the  condition  of 
their  own  legitimacy.  In  the  coexistence  and  mutual  respect 
of  these  two  forces  reside  the  beauty  and  the  security  of 
social  order. 


THE  LAW  AND  THE   GOSPEL. 

By  the  Rev.  BADEN  POWELL,  M.  A.,  F.  R.  S.,  E.  G.  S., 

BAVaiAN  PEOFESSOE  OP  GEOMETET  IN  THE  UNIVERSITT  OF  OXFORD. 


O  yap  XpifTTiavia-nos  ovk  els  ^lovdaiafiou  iTriarevcreu  aX\a  'lov- 
tuicfios  els  XpiOTiavicrfJiov,  ms  naaa  y\S)&a-a  TTiOTevaacra  els  Qeop 
avvfjxOr).  —  Ignatius  ad  Magnes.  ^  x. 

"For  Christianity  hath  not  believed  in  Judaism,  but  Judaism  in 
Christianity ;  —  that  every  tongue  having  believed  in  God  might  sound 
forth  together."  * 

Introduction. 

Among  persons  professing  to  receive  the  Bible  as  the  au- 
thentic record  of  what  in  general  they  believe  is  Divine  Reve 
lation,  it  is  remarkable  how  little  attention  is  commonly  given 
to  the  obvious  diversity  of  nature  and  purport  in  those  very- 
distinct  portions  of  which  the  sacred  volume  consists.  To 
any  one  who  does  but  for  a  moment  reflect  on  the  widely 
remote  dates,  the  extremely  diversified  character  of  the 
contents,  the  totally  dissimilar  circumstances  and  occasions 
of  the  composition,  of  the  several  writings,  it  must  be  ob- 
vious how  essentially  they  require  to  be  viewed  with  care- 
ful discrimination  as  to  the  variety  of  conditions  and  objects 
which  they  evince,  if  they  are  to  be  in  any  degree  rightly 
understood,  or  applied  as  they  were  intended  to  be.  But 
manifest  as  these   considerations   are,  and  readily  admitted 

*  I  should  translate  the  last  clause  of  this  quotation,  "  that  every 
tongue  having  believed  might  be  gathered  together  unto  God."  —  G.  R.  N. 


28  THE    LAW    AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

when  simply  put  before  any  reader  of  the  most  ordinary 
attainments  and  discernment,  it  is  singular  to  observe  how 
commonly  they  are  practically  lost  sight  of  in  the  too  preva- 
lent modes  of  reading  and  applying  Scripture. 

In  this  point  of  view  it  must  be  allowed  a  matter  of  the 
most  primary  importance,  as  bearing  on  the  whole  purport 
and  design  of  the  Bible,  to  apprehend  rightly  the  general 
relation,  but  at  the  same  time  the  characteristic  differences,  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament,  the  Law  and  the  Gospel,  the 
distinctive  character  to  be  traced  and  the  sort  of  connection 
actually  subsisting  between  them.  Nor  does  this  turn  on  con- 
siderations of  any  nice  or  critical  kind,  demanding  extensive 
learning  to  appreciate,  or  deep  study  to  judge  of;  it  implies 
a  mere  reference  to  matters  of  fact,  which  require  but  to  be 
indicated  to  be  understood,  so  that  it  is  the  more  remarkable 
how  commonly  they  are  overlooked. 

Yet  on  no  subject,  perhaps,  are  more  confused  and  unsatis- 
factory ideas  more  commonly  prevalent ;  not  only  among  or- 
dinary, careless,  or  formal  readers  of  Scripture,  but  even 
among  many  of  better  information  and  more  serious  religious 
views,  a  habit  is  too  general  of  confounding  together  the  con- 
tents of  all  parts  of  the  sacred  volume,  whether  of  the  old  or 
new  dispensations,  of  the  Hebrew  or  of  the  Christian  Scrip- 
tures, into  one  promiscuous  mass,  regarding  them,  as  it  were, 
all  as  one  book,  or  code  of  religion,  and  of  citing  detached 
texts  from  both,  and  promiscuously  taking  precepts  and  insti- 
tutions, promises  and  threatenings,  belonging  to  peculiar  dis- 
pensations, and  applying  them  universally,  without  regard  to 
times,  persons,  or  circumstances.  And  such  a  mode  of  appeal- 
ing to  Scripture  is  sometimes  even  defended,  as  evincing  a 
meritorious  reverence  for  its  divine  character,  and  upheld  as 
a  consequence  from  the  belief  in  its  inspxrcUxon.  Yet  in 
whatever  sense  that  belief  be  entertained,  adopting  even  the 
strictest  meaning  of  the  term,  it  surely  by  no  means  follows 
but  that  inspired  authority  may  have  a  reference  to  one  ob- 
ject and  not  to  another,  —  a  precept  or  declaration  may  have 
been  addressed  to  one  party  or  in  one  nge,  and  not  designed 


yV       OP  THR     ^vJP^ 
THE    LAW   A5  D    THE    GOSPEL."  ^  I  V  E  R  Wl  T  IT) 

for  anotLer,  —  without  any  disparagement  to  its  ^?i»^  Aac{^^^ 

From  a  thoughtless,  desultory,  or  merely  formal  habit  of 
reading  the  divine  Word,  it  is  not  surprising  that  there  should 
result  an  adoption  of  those  low  and  unworthy  notions  which 
prevail  so  commonly  as  to  the  character  and  genius  of  thf 
Christian  religion ;  and  which  especially  arise  from  the  con- 
fused combination  of  its  principles  with  those  of  older  and  less 
perfect  dispensations.  That  such  ideas  should  obtain  ready 
acceptance  with  the  many  will  not  surprise  those  who  con- 
sider the  various  causes  in  different  ways  operating  to  lower 
and  degrade  the  exalted  purity  and  simplicity  of  the  Gospel 
to  the  level  of  the  corrupt  apprehensions  of  human  nature, 
especially  among  the  mass  of  the  ignorant  and  unthinking 
nominal  professors  of  a  belief  in  its  doctrine. 

But  it  must  be  a  matter  of  more  astonishment  that  such 
notions  should  find  encouragement  with  some  who  professedly 
look  at  Christianity  in  a  more  enlightened  sense,  and  avowed- 
ly seek  to  receive  it  in  no  blind,  formal  manner,  but  in  the 
spirit  of  its  evangelical  purity.  Yet  such  unhappily  is  the 
case.  And  whether  from  mere  want  of  thought  on  the  one 
hand,  or  from  preconceived  theories  on  the  other,  or  even  in 
some  cases  (we  must  fear)  from  more  mixed  motives,  so  un- 
prepared are  men  to  entertain  more  distinct  views,  that  the 
very  announcement  of  them  is  commonly  altogether  startling 
and  even  painful  to  their  prepossessions,  and  especially  when 
these  questions  are  found  to  be  mixed  up  with  certain  points 
of  supposed  practical  obligation  and  religious  observance ;  it 
follows,  that  when  a  more  explanatory  view  of  the  subject  is 
presented,  the  hearers  too  generally  turn  away  with  impa- 
tience, or  even  with  disgust  and  offence. 

Without  indulging  the  hope  of  being  able  to  remove  or 
conciliate  such  opposing  feelings  in  all  instances,  it  will  be  at 
least  the  endeavor,  in  the  following  exposition,  to  avoid  giving 
offence  by  the  assumption  of  a  polemical  tone  ;  yet  to  state 
the  case  of  Christianity  as  independent  of  previous  dispensa- 
tions, simply  in  reference  to  the  matter  of  fact,  with  that  plain- 
3# 


80  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

ness  which  the  cause  of  truth  demands,  according  to  the  tenor 
of  the  evidence  furnished  by  Scripture,  and  in  the  desire  to 
maintain  and  elucidate  the  pure  and  enlightening  principles  of 
the  New  Testament,  according  to  what  appears,  at  least  to  the 
author,  their  unadulterated  and  evangelical  simplicity. 

I.     The  Primeval  Dispensations, 

The  general  nature,  character,  and  connection  of  the  suc- 
cessive divine  dispensations  recorded  in  the  Bible,  as  briefly 
described  by  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  (i.  1), 
—  the  announcements  in  various  measures  and  "portions,** 
and  under  various  "  forms  "  or  "  aspects,"  *  made  in  times 
past  to  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  —  fully  accords  with  what 
we  collect  in  detail  from  the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  affords  the  only  simple  and  satisfactory  clew  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  them. 

Tlie  view  presented  to  us  is  that  of  successive  revelations, 
systems,  covenants,  laws,  given  to  different  individuals,  fami- 
lies, or  nations,  containing  gradual,  progressive,  and  partial 
developments  of  the  truth,  and  intimations  of  the  Divine  will 
for  their  guidance,  accompanied  with  peculiar  positive  insti- 
tutions, adapted  to  the  ideas  of  the  age  and  the  condition  of 
the  parties  to  whom  they  were  vouchsafed. 

Thus  peculiar  revelations  are  represented  as  having  been 
made  —  each  distinct  from  the  other,  though  in  some  instances 
including  repetitions  —  to  Adam,  to  Noali,  to  Job,  to  Abra- 
ham, to  Isaac  and  Jacob,  to  the  Israelites,  first  by  IMoses, 
afterwards  by  a  succession  of  prophets,  as  well  as  in  some 
instances  to  other  people;  as,  for  exiunple,  to  the  Nine- 
vites  (if  the  book  of  Jonali  be  regarded  as  historical)  ;  — 
while,  in  contradistinction  to  all  these^  we  are  told,  "  in  these 
last  days  God  hath  spoken  unto  vs  by  his  Son  '*  (•&.),  in  a 
universiil,  permjuient,  and  perfect  dispensation  ;  —  the  earlier 
and  more  partial  were  not  made  "  to  usy*  or  designed  "/or  us,** 

Yet  it  is  important  to  trace  the  history  and  character  of 


*  This  is  clearly  the  ft>roe  of  the  original,  iroXv/irpA*;  icai  nokvrponmt. 
Hob.  i.  1. 


THE   LAW  AND    THE    GOSPEL.  81 

these  former  dispensations,  in  order  more  fully  to  elucidate 
the  distinct  nature  and  independence  of  the  last ;  and  espe- 
cially to  remove  prevalent  misconceptions  from  a  subject 
which,  however  plain  when  historically  and  rationally  con- 
sidered, has  been  involved  in  much  difficulty  from  gratuitous 
and  often  visionary  theories. 

When  we  consider  the  very  imperfect  intimations,  often 
mere  hints  and  allusions,  given  in  the  Hebrew  records,  as  to 
these  early  religious  institutions  and  the  design  of  them,  as 
well  as  the  obvious  and  wide  differences  in  the  circumstances 
of  those  people  and  times  from  our  own,  the  discerning  reader 
at  once  sees  how  little  they  can  have  been  intended  to  be 
understood  as  containing  any  permanent  elements  of  a  uni- 
versal religion,  as  seems  to  have  been  sometimes  imagined. 
In  the  plain  terms  of  the  narrative  we  discover  notliing  of  the 
kind,  and  in  the  comment  on  it  which  the  New  Testament 
supplies,  we  have  direct  assurance  to  the  contrary. 

In  general,  we  find  only  that  the  servants  of  God  in  those 
ages  were  accepted  in  walking  each  according  to  the  lights 
vouchsafed  to  him ;  while  in  other  respects  we  see  peculiar 
institutions  and  announcements  specially  adapted  to  the  pecu- 
liar ends  and  purposes  of  the  dispensations.  Thus  we  trace 
from  the  first  the  approach  to  God  through  sacrifices,  offer- 
ings, and  formal  services. 

Some  infer  from  the  account  of  the  Divine  rest  after  the 
creation,  that  there  was  a  primeval  institution  of  the  Sabbath, 
though  certainly  no  precept  is  recorded  as  having  been  given 
to  man  to  keep  it  up.  But  since,  from  the  irreconcilable  con- 
tradictions disclosed  by  geological  discovery,  the  whole  narra- 
tive of  the  six  days'  creation  cannot  now  be  regarded  by  any 
competently  informed  person  cls  historical*  the  historical 
character  of  the  distinction  conferred  on  the  seventh  day  falls 
to  the  ground  along  with  it.     Yet  even  without  reference  to 

*  I  do  not  here  pretend  to  enter  on  the  evidence  in  support  of  this  con- 
clusion. It  will  be  found  fully  discussed  in  my  work,  On  the  Connection 
of  Natural  and  Divine  Truth,  1838,  and  in  my  article  "  Creation,"  in 
Kitto's  Cyclopaedia  of  Bib.  Lit. 


82  THE   LAW   AND   THE   GOSPEL. 

this  consideration,  some  of  the  best  commentators  have  re- 
garded the  passage  a^*  proleptical,  or  anticipatory. 

Afterwards  we  find  the  distinction  of  clean  and  unclean 
animals  introduced,  and  the  prohibition  of  eating  blood,  in 
the  covenant  with  Noah  (Gen.  ix.  1),  of  which  the  Sabbath 
formed  no  part ;  nor  can  we  find  any  indication  of  it  in  the 
history  of  the  other  patriarchs :  a  point  particularly  dwelt 
upon  by  the  early  Christian  divines,  who  adopted  the  belief 
of  the  Jews  of  their  age  in  interpreting  their  Scriptures.* 
Some  have  dwelt  on  the  mention  of  the  division  of  time  by 
weeks  f  in   several  parts  of  the  early  Mosaic  history :  yet 

*  Justin  Martyr  {Dial.  c.  Trypho,  236,  261)  says,  "The  patriarchs 
were  justified  before  God  not  keeping  Sabbaths,"  and  "  from  Abraham 
originated  circumcision  and  from  Moses  the  Sabbath,"  &c.  iR'meus  (IV. 
30)  and  TertuUian  {AdJud.,  II.  4)  both  declare  that  "  Abniham  without 
circumcision  and  without  observance  of  Sabbaths  believed  in  God,"  &c. 

t  The  early  and  general  adoption  of  the  division  of  time  into  weelc$ 
may  be  obviously  and  rationally  derived  from  the  simple  consideration, 
that  among  all  rude  nations  the  first  periodical  division  of  time  which 
obtains  is  that  of  lunar  months,  while  those  conspicuous  phenomena,  the 
phases  or  quaiters  of  the  moon,  correspond  to  a  week  nearly  enough  for 
the  common  purposes  of  such  nations. 

The  universal  prevalence  of  this  division  by  weeks  among  Eastern 
nations  from  a  very  remote  period  is  attested  by  various  ancient  writers. 
Dio  Ciissius  jiscribes  the  invention  of  it  to  the  Egyptians,  and  assigns 
the  origin  of  the  planetary  names  of  the  djiys.  ( IJist.  Rom.,  XXXVII.  18, 
19.)  Oldendorf  found  it  in  the  interior  of  Africa.  (Jahn,  Arcfurol.  Bib.^ 
%rt.  "  Week.")  The  Brahmins  also  have  the  week  distinguished  by  the 
planetary  names.  ( Life  of  Galileo,  1 2  ;  Laplace,  Precis  de  I' Hist.  d'Astron, 
16.)  The  Peruvians  divide  lunar  months  into  halves  and  quarters,  i.  e. 
weeks,  by  the  j)hase8  of  tlie  moon,  and  besides  have  a  porioil  of  nine 
Jays,  the  approximate  thinl  part  of  a  lunation  :  thus  showing  the  com- 
mon origin  of  lK)th.  (Garcilasso,  Hist,  of  the  Incas,  in  Taylor's  Nat.  HitL 
of  Society,  I.  291,  292.) 

So  also  the  Romans  had  tlieir  "  Nandinae."  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Mexicans  have  {X'riods  of  five  and  of  thirteen  days,  with  names  to  each 
day.  (Nonnan  on  Yuctitan,  i.  85,  and  Trans,  of  American  Ethnoij.  Soc.,  I. 
.^8. )  And  the  week  is  not  known  to  the  Chinese,  nor  to  the  North  Amcri> 
can  Imlians  (Catlin,  II.  234) ;  facts  opposed  to  tlic  idea  of  any  universal 
primitive  tradition. 

Allusions  to  a  sanctity  ascribed  to  the  seventh  day  by  tlie  early  Greek 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  33 

it  by  no  means  follows  that,  because  the  historian  adopts  a 
particular  mode  of  reckoning,  it  was  therefore  used  by  the 
people  of  whom  he  is  writing :  but  were  it  so,  this  would  not 
imply  the  institution  of  the  Sabbath. 

In  all  the  early  dispensations  religious  truths  are  conveyed 
under  figures,  and  obligations  enforced  by  motives,  specially 
adapted  to  the  capacities  and  wants  of  the  parties  addressed. 
Thus  temporal  prospects  are  always  held  out  as  the  immediate 
sanctions ;  and  the  mode  of  announcement  adopted  is  always 
that  in  which  God  is  represented  as  vouchsafing  to  enter  into 
a  covenant  with  his  creatures ;  —  the  form  is  always  that  of  a 

poets,  such  as  the  ejSdofiaTr]  S'  erreira  KUTTjXvdev  Upbv  r]^ap  of  Homer, 
and  like  expressions  of  Callimachus,  Hesiod,  &c.,  arc  quoted  by  Clemens 
Alexandrin.  {Strom.,  V.),  and  expressly  described  by  him  to  have  been 
derived  from  the  Jews,  with  whose  Scriptures  so  many  parallelisms  are 
found  in  the  classic  authors. 

Generally,  however,  the  universal  superstition  of  the  sacredness  of  the 
number  7,  combined  with  the  equally  common  propensity  to  attach  sanc- 
tity to  particular  periods  and  days,  are  sufficient  elements  out  of  which 
such  ideas  would  naturally  take  their  rise. 

Among  the  ancient  Romans  festivals  were  held  in  honor  of  Saturn, 
with  a  reference  to  commemorating  the  Saturnian  or  Golden  age,  and 
with  this  idea  it  was  unlawful  on  the  day  sacred  to  Saturn  to  go  out  to 
war  (Macrobius,  Lib.  I.;  Saturn.,  c.  16),  and  it  was  held  unlucky  to 
commence  a  journey  or  undertake  any  business  :  a  superstition  alluded 
to  by  Tibullus  {Eleg.  I.  3,  v.  18),  "  Satumi  aut  sacram  me  tenuisse 
diem." 

What  particular  feast  is  here  referred  to  there  is  nothing  to  show.  The 
supposition  of  some  of  his  commentatoi-s,  that  it  meant  the  seventh  day 
of  the  week,  is  wholly  gratuitous.  But  if  it  were  so,  the  idea  would  be 
naturally  and  obviously  borrowed  from  the  Jews,  whose  customs,  espe- 
cially the  Sabbath,  are  so  frequently  alluded  to  by  the  Roman  writers  ; 
and,  from  their  wide  dispersion,  must  have  been  generally  familiar,  as  in 
fact  we  learn  from  the  boast  of  Josephus  {Adv.  Ap.,  II.)  and  of  Philo, 
that  "  there  is  no  place  where  the  Sabbath  is  not  known,"  and  the  testi- 
mony of  Theophilus  Antiochus  (Lib.  II.,  Ad  Arist.)  to  the  same  effect,  as 
well  as  others  often  cited  :  which  show  the  strict  preservation  of  tlie  ob- 
servance among  the  scattered  Jews  ;  and  it  may  possibly  have  been  con- 
formed to  by  others,  or  the  occasion  laid  hold  of'  as  convenient  for  other 
purposes  :  as,  e.  g.,  we  are  told  by  Suetonius  (Lib.  XXXII.),  "Diogenes 
grammaticus  disputare  sabbatis  Rhodi  solitus." 


34  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

stipvlation  of  certain  conditions  to  be  fulfilled,  and  certain 
blessings  or  punishments  to  be  awarded  as  they  are  fulfilled 
or  not ;  —  and  these  conditions,  always  of  a  precise,  formal, 
positive  kind,  not  implying  merely  moral  obligations.  The 
spirit  of  all  these  covenants  was  that  of  "  touch  not,  taste  not, 
handle  not"  (Col.  ii.  21),  involving  a  ground  and  motive  of 
obedience  precisely  adapted  to  the  very  infancy  of  the  human 
race.  Such  was  the  very  covenant  with  Adam  in  Paradise  : 
"  Eat  not  of  the  tree,  —  or  thou  shalt  die."  Nor  can  it  be 
denied  that,  if  the  Sabbath  had  formed  a  part  of  that  covenant, 
it  was  an  institution  exactly  in  keeping  with  it :  Eat  not  of 
the  tree,  —  keep  holy  the  seventh  day.  The  same  idea  of  a 
covenanted  stipulation  of  positive  observances,  in  which  sacri- 
fice was  the  most  prominent,  characterizes  all  the  succeeding 
announcements,  —  from  the  covenant  of  circumcision  with 
Abraham  down  to  the  more  detailed  and  complete  scheme  of 
the  Mosaic  Law. 

In  these  early  and  imperfect  dispensations  it  is  idle  to  look 
for  any  great  principles  of  universal  moral  application,  as  has 
been  sometimes  fancied  :  —  for  instance,  finding  authority  for 
capital  punishment  in  the  precept  given  to  Noah  (Gen.  ix.  6), 
or  for  tithes  in  the  example  of  Melchisedec  (Gen  xiv.  20). 
So  far  from  perceiving  any  support  for  the  idea,  that  because 
a  precept  or  institution  was  from  the  beginning,  it  was  there- 
fore designed  to  be  of  universal  and  perpetual  obligation,  on 
the  contrary,  we  rather  see  in  its  very  antiquity  a  strong  pre- 
sumption that  it  was  of  a  nature  suited  and  intended  only  for 
the  earliest  stage  of  the  religious  development  of  man. 

But  apart  from  these  peculiarities,  we  trace  all  along  the 
announcement  of  ^^  the  promise "  (Gal.  iii.  19),  which  was 
before  the  covenant,  and  to  which  the  fathers  looked  as  not 
transitory,  Christianity,  by  fulfilling  the  promise,  supersedes 
all  previous  imperfect  dispensations:  itself  emphatically  a 
New  covenant,  the  very  reverse  of  a  recurrence  to  a  primitive 
religion  (as  fancied  by  some).  The  patriarchs,  and  especially 
Abraham,  are  set  forth  as  examples  of  faith  in  the  promise  ; 
and  in  this  respect  Christian  believers  arc  called  cliildi-en  of 


THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  85 

Abraham  (Gal.  iii.  7)  :  but  manifestly  not  in  the  sense  of 
their  retrograding  to  an  older  and  less  perfect  state  of  things : 
the  whole  tenor  of  the  Divine  revelation  is  clearly  stamped 
with  the  character  of  advance. 

II.     The  Judaical  Law. 

The  manifest  design  of  the  book  of  Genesis  was  not  to 
tea'ih  us  a  primitive  religion,  but  to  form  an  introduction  to 
the  Law  for  the  Jews.  It  has  been  well  observed,  that  "  to 
understand  Genesis  we  must  begin  with  Exodus  " ;  from  the 
actual  histor}"  and  circumstances  of  the  people  we  can  best 
appreciate  what  their  books  spoke  to  them. 

Those  events  in  the  -previous  history  are  always  selected 
and  enlarged  upon  which  have  a  direct  reference  to  points  in 
the  subsequent  institutions,  or  were  anticipations  of  the  Law, 
or  the  rudiments  out  of  which  its  ordinances  were  framed. 

Thus,  the  narrative  of  the  six  days'  creation,  first  announced 
in  the  Decalogue,  and  afterwards  amplified  in  Genesis,  as  has 
been  already  observed,  can  now  only  be  regarded  as  an 
adaptation  of  a  poetical  cosmogony  (doubtless  already  familiar 
to  the  Israelites)  to  the  purpose  of  enforcing  on  them  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Sabbath.  And  in  like  manner  the  other  insti- 
tutions of  primeval  worship  (already  adverted  to)  —  the 
sacrifices,  the  distinctions  of  clean  and  unclean  animals,  the 
prohibition  of  blood,  and  afterwards  the  appointment  of 
circumcision,  the  choice  of  a  peculiar  people,  the  promise 
of  Canaan  —  form  the  prominent  topics,  as  being  the  begin- 
nings of  the  Mosaic  covenant,  and  approximations  towards 
the  system  of  the  Law. 

The  object  of  the  Law  was  declared  to  be,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  separate  the  people  of  Israel  by  peculiar  marks  and 
badges  from  all  other  nations,  as  a  people  chosen  for  the  high 
ends  and  purposes  of  the  Divine  counsels  (see  especially 
Exod.  xix.  5  ;  xxxi.  13  -  17  ;  Deut.  xiv.  1 ;  xxvi.  16 ;  Ezek. 
XX.  9-12).  This  was  to  be  effected  especially  by  such  dis- 
tinctions as  those  of  circumcision,  the  prohibition  of  inter- 
marriages, or  any  paiticipation  with  idolaters ;  by  all  their 


86  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

exclusive  usages  and  ceremonies,  but  chiefly  by  the  marked 
singularity  of  the  Sabbath,  which,  along  with  the  Passover, 
was  appointed  earlier  than  the  rest  of  the  Law,  and  was  em- 
phatically declared  (Exod.  xxxi.  16  ;  Ezek.  xx.  12  ;  Neh.  ix. 
14,  &c.)  to  be  a  distinctive  sign  between  God  and  the  people 
of  Israel,  which  they  were  always  to  remember  to  keep  up ; 
a  peculiarity  further  evinced  by  its  being  always  prominently 
coupled  with  the  sanctity  of  the  temple,  the  new  moons  and 
other  feasts  (Lev.  xix.  30  ;  Isa.  i.  13  ;  Ixvi.  23  ;  Hos.  ii.  11  ; 
Ezek.  xlv.  17),  and  one  of  the  pledges  by  which  the  proselyte 
was  to  tdke  hold  of  the  covenant  (Isa.  Ivi.  6).  The  directions 
for  the  mode  of  observing  it  were  minute  and  strict ;  and  the 
precepts  always  precisely  regai'd  the  observance,  not  of  one 
day  in  seven,  but  of  the  seiwnth  day  of  the  week  as  such,  in 
commemoration  of  the  rest  after  the  Creation,*  though  in  one 
respect  also  it  is  afterwards  urged  as  reminding  them  of  their 
deliverance  out  of  Egypt  (Deut  v.  14).  These  distinctions 
constituted  at  once  their  security  and  their  motives  of  obe- 
dience. The  Law  throughout  is  a  series  of  adaptations  to  them 
and  their  national  peculiarities. 

Yet  it  is  often  spoken  of  as  something  general,  as  "  a  pre- 
liminary education  of  the  human  race  " ;  f  but  the  plain  history 
discloses  nothing  but  the  training  of  one  single  people  for  a 
specific  purpose. 

We  see  continued  exemplifications  of  wise  adaptation  to 
the  Jewish  national  mind  in  the  entire  mode  of  the  delivery 
of  the  Law  amid  terrors,  signs,  and  wonders  ;  and  especially 
in  the  oral  announcement  of  the  Decalogue  from  Sinai ;  while 
its  consignment  to  tables  of  stone  is  expressly  stated  to  be  for 


•  The  Jewish  Rabbis  hare  always  understood  the  institution  to  belong 
to  the.  jxirticular  daif  of  the  cessation  of  the  Creation,  enjoined  on  the  peo- 
ple of  iMroel,  as  thi'v  say,  "  that  they  mii^ht  fasten  in  their  minds  the  be- 
lief that  the  world  hud  a  l»ej:inning,  which  is  a  thread  that  draws  after  it 
all  the  foundations  of  the  Law  or  principles  of  religion."  (Rabbi  Levi  of 
Barcelona,  quoted  by  Patrick,  on  Exod.  xix.)  The  same  idea  occort 
In  a  Jewish  form  of  prayer  quoted  also  by  Patrick. 

t  See  Pusey  on  RationalUm,  L  IM. 


THE    LAW    AND    THE    GOSPEL.  37 

a  memorial  or  "testimony"  (Exod.  xxxi.  18;  xxxiv.  29)  to 
the  covenant,  of  which  these  precepts  constituted  some  of  the 
more  primary  stipulations.  And  throughout  the  whole  Law 
we  trace  equal  adaptations  in  the  form  and  manner  of  the 
precepts  and  injunctions :  all  minute  and  literal,  not  rising 
to  any  broad  principles,  which  the  Israelites  at  that  time 
would  have  been  incapable  of  comprehending. 

The  distinction  adopted  by  many  modern  divines  between 
the  "  ceremonial "  and  the  "  moral "  law  appears-  nowhere  in 
the  books  of  Moses.  No  one  portion  or  code  is  held  out  as 
comprising  the  rules  of  moral  obligation  distinct  and  apart 
from  those  of  a  positive  nature :  such  a  distinction  would  have 
been  unintelligible  to  them ;  and  "  the  Law  "  is  always  spoken 
of  in  Scripture  as  a  whole,  without  reference  to  any  such 
classification ;  and  the  obligations  of  all  parts  of  it,  as  of  the 
same  kind. 

Li  particular,  what  is  termed  the  moral  law  is  certainly 
in  no  way  pecuUarly  to  be  identified  with  the  Decalogue. 
Though  moral  duties,  are  specially  enjoined  in  many  places 
of  the  Law,  yet  the  Decalogue  certainly  does  not  contain  all 
moral  duties,  even  by  remote  implication,  and  on  the  widest 
construction.  It  totally  omits  many  such,  as,  e.  g.,  beneficence, 
truth,  justice,  temperance,  control  of  temper,  and  others  ;  and 
some  moral  precepts  omitted  here  are  introduced  in  other 
places. 

Equally  in  the  Decalogue  and  the  rest  of  the  Law,  we  find 
precepts  referring  to  what  are  properly  moral  duties  scattered 
and  intermixed  with  those  of  a  positive  and  formal  kind,  and 
in  no  way  distinguished  from  them  in  authority  or  impor- 
tance ;  but  both  connected  with  the  peculiarities  of  the  dis- 
pensation, expressed  in  a  form  accompanied  with  sanctions 
and  enforced  by  motives  precisely  adapted  to  the  character 
tmd  capacity  of  the  people,  and  such  as  formed  part  of  the 
exact  stipulations  of  the  covenant. 

Their  duties  were  urged  more  generally  in  some  passages 
(as,  e.  g.,  in  Deut.  xi.  21,  22  ;  iv.  27,  &c.)  on  the  consid- 
eration of  national  blessings ;  in  others  on  more  particuLir 

4 


38  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSIKo 

grounds,  such  as  the  motives  assigned  for  filial  obedience 
(Exod.  XX.  12)  in  a  long  life;  the  recompense  for  benefi- 
cence and  equity  (Prov.  xix.  17  ;  Ps.  xli.  1  ;  xxxvii.  25, 
&c.)  ;  the  appeal  to  the  dread  of  Divine  vengeance  (Exod. 
xxiv.  17;  Deut  iv.  24;  Isa.  Ixvi.  16;  Deut.  iv.  31)  ;  and 
the  remembrance  of  benefits  conferred.  In  general  their 
reward  was  to  be  found  in  obedience :  to  keep  the  statutes 
and  ordinances  was  to  be  "  their  wisdom  and  their  righteous- 
ness " ;  and  the  great  maxim  and  promise  was,  "  He  that 
doeth  these  things  shall  live  in  them  "  (Deut.  iv.  6 ;  vi.  25  ; 
Lev.  xviii.  5). 

The  Law  conformed  to  many  points  of  human  infirmity :  it 
offered  splendid  rites  and  ceremonies  to  attract  popular  rever- 
ence, and  wean  the  people  from  their  proneness  to  the  gross 
ceremonies  of  idolatry.  It  indulged  the  disposition  to  observe 
"  days,  and  times,  and  seasons  "  by  the  Sabbaths  and  feasts, 
and  by  occasional  fasts,  originally  only  a  symbol  of  ordinary 
mourning,  but  afterwards  invested  with  a  religious  character 
(Isa.  Iviii.  5  ;  Joel  ii.  12).  It  commended  avenging  and  san- 
guinary zeal,  especially  in  the  punishment  of  blasphemers 
(Lev.  xxiv.  14;  Deut  xiii.  9).  It  sanctioned  the  ^^  lex  tcdio- 
nis  "  (Exod.  xxi.  23),  —  "  Ufe  for  life,  eye  for  eye,  tooth  for 
tooth,"  —  that  most  perfect  idea  of  retributive  justice  to  the 
uncivilized  mind;  and  in  general  it  connected  the  idea  of 
punishment  with  that  of  vengeance,  the  most  congenial  to  a 
barbarous  apprehension.  If  it  restricted  marriages  within 
certain  degrees  of  kindred,  it  at  least  connived  at  polygamy ; 
and  allowed  a  law  of  divorce  suited  "  to  the  hardness  of  their 
hearts  "  (Matt,  xix.  8).  The  Law  altogetlier  was  established 
with  a  regard  to  the  infirmity  and  blindness  of  the  people, 
"  in  consideration  to  transgressions  '*  •  (Gal.  iii.  19). 

While  it  prohibited  idolatry,  it  represented  the  Deity  under 
human  similitudes,  with  human  passions  and  bodily  members, 

*  This  appeiurs  to  mo  to  be  tho  proper  forcc'of  the  adverb  x^P^^  ^^^ 
lued  by  the  Apostle.  From  its  etymology  it  must  be  tnpposod  to  imply 
"  because  of,"  fn  aJavorabU  or  indulging  sense.  It  soeros  to  correspond 
to  wpot  in  Matt  xix.  8. 


THE   LAW   AND    THE    CrOSPEL.  HO 

as,  e.  g.,  wearj  and  resting  from  his  work,  angry,  repenting, 
and  jealous  of  other  gods  ;  and  designated  more  particula"-ly 
as  "  Jehovah,"  the  national  God  of  Israel,  &c.  It  is  not  one 
of  the  least  remarkable  of  these  anthropomorphisms  that  (as 
in  former  instances)  the  disclosure  of  the  Divine  purposes  is 
made  under  the  figure  of  Jehovah  entering  into  a  covenant 
with  his  people,  an  idea  specially  adapted  to  a  nation  of  the 
lowest  moral  capacity.  All  points  of  duty  were  proposed 
under  the  form  of  precise  stipulations,  (just  as  in  other  times 
religious  vows,  temperance  pledges,  subscriptions  to  creeds, 
&c.  have  been  adopted,)  to  keep  a  stronger  hold  on  those  in- 
capable of  higher  motives.  The  immediate  appeal  to  divine 
sanctions  sensibly  present,  and  the  enforcement  of  moral 
duties  under  the  form  of  a  positive  engagement,  were  pre- 
cisely calculated  to  influence  those  who  had  no  apprehension 
of  pure  principles  of  moral  obligation,  or  of  a  higher  spiritual 
service. 

Again,  obedience  was  to  be  rewarded  and  sin  to  be  visited 
by  blessings  or  judgments  on  the  -posterity  of  the  offender 
(Exod.  XX.  5),  not  merely  in  the  sense  of  the  ordinary  conse- 
quences of  good  or  bad  conduct  in  the  parents  naturally  in- 
fluencing the  fortunes  of  the  children,  but  by  a  peculiar 
providential  interposition.  And  in  connection  with  this  was 
another  striking  peculiarity  of  the  covenant,  that  obedience 
and  disobedience  were  both  regarded  as  national^  for  which 
national  rewards  and  judgments  were  to  be  awarded ;  the 
whole  people  in  the  aggregate  being  represented  as  possessing 
a  collective  and  common  responsibility.  These  peculiarities 
were  obviously  connected  with  the  absence  of  those  higher 
motives  and  sanctions  which  would  be  derived  from  the  doc- 
trine of  a  future  state  ;  which  clearly /or/wfc?  no  part  of  the 
covenant,  even  if  believed  by  some  pious  and  enlightened  in- 
dividuals, and  in  later  times  hinted  at  by  the  prophets. 

The  obligations  of  the  Law  were  strongly  declared  to  be 
perpetual  (as,  e.  g.,  Exod.  xxxi.  17  ;  Lev.xvi.  34  ;  xxiv.  8  ; 
2  Kings  xvii.  87,  &c. ;  Isa.  Iv.  3),  and  the  covenant  everlast' 
**^^j  —  expressions  which  cannot  now  be  taken  literally. 


40  THE    LAW    AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

Its  privileges  might  at  all  times  be  extended  to  strangers 
by  their  undergoing  the  initiatory  rite.  This  was  in  later 
ages  extensively  realized  (see  Exod.  xii.  48  ;  comp.  with  Isa. 
Ivi.  6;  and  Deut,  xxix.  11). 

The  prophecies  of  the  future  extension  of  the  Mosaic  re- 
ligion might  in  a  first  sense  apply  literally  to  this  extension  of 
proselytism,  —  the  coming  in  of  remote  nations  to  the  Jewish 
church  and  worship,  resorting  to  its  temple,  adopting  its  rites 
and  offerings,  and  keeping  its  festivals  and  Sabbaths :  as  we 
know  was  in  fact  largely  fulfilled  before  the  introduction  of 
the  Gospel  (Isa.  Ivi.  3 ;  Ixvi.  11,  12,  19-23 ;  Micah  iv.  1 ; 
Zech.  viii.  21  ;  Amos  ix.  11 ;  comp.  Acts  ii.  5,  &c). 

These  predictions  are,  however,  also  figuratively  interpreted 
of  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  and  the  glories  of  the  spiritual 
Zion.  If  so,  all  the  particulars  in  the  description  must  be 
interpreted  by  the  same  analogy  ;  if  Israel  and  the  temple  be 
metaphorical,  then  the  sacrifices,  new  moons,  and  Sabbaths 
must  be  so  likewise ;  if  these  latter  are  taken  literally,  we  can 
only  understand  the  whole  literally,  or  we  violate  all  rules  of 
interpretation  and  analogy. 

The  precision  and  formality  of  the  Law  were  in  some  de- 
gree extended  and  spiritualized  by  the  Prophets.  The  words 
of  Ezekiel  (xviii.  3)  have  been  understood  as  positively  ab- 
rogating the  punishment  of  the  posterity  for  the  sins  of  the 
father;  and  Isaiah  (i.  13,  &c)  strongly  decries  the  sacrifices 
and  Sabbaths.  They  also  gave  intimations  that  the  Law  was 
to  come  to  an  end,  or  rather  to  be  superseded  by  a  better  and 
more  spiritual  covenant  (Isa.  ii.  2  ;  Jer.  xxxi.  31  ;  Ezek. 
xxxvi.  25  ;  Mai.  iv.  2  -  6).  Malachi,  the  last,  connects  the 
two  dispensations,  —  looking  backwards  to  Moses  and  for- 
wards to  Christ  and  his  forerunner. 

John  the  Baptist  was  the  minister  of  an  intermediate  or 
preparatory  dispensation.  lie  accordingly  recognized  all  ex- 
isting obligations,  but  reproved  hypocrisy  and  formality,  and 
urged  repentance  and  its  practical  fruits  (Luke  iii.  10  - 14 ; 
Matt.  iii.  7).  He  more  especially  announced  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  as  at  liand,  and  pointed  to  Jesus  as  "  the  Christ,"  "  the 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  41 

Lamb  of  God  "  who  should  bring  it  in  (John  i.  27,  29),  and 
"  take  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 

m.    The   Teaching  of  Christ, 

In  the  teaching  of  Jesus  we  find  no  repeal  of  an  old  dis- 
pensation to  introduce  a  new  ;  but  a  gradual  method  of  prep- 
aration by  spiritual  instruction  for  a  better  system. 

During  his  ministry  on  earth,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  was 
still  only  "  at  hand  "  and  "  to  come  "  (Mark  i.  15  ;  Matt.  vi. 
10).  Serious  misconceptions  often  arise  from  applying  his 
instructions  without  remembering  that  he  was  himself  em- 
phatically "  made  under  the  Law  "  (Gal.  iv.  4),  and  address- 
ing those  under  it  as  still  in  force. 

To  the  Jews  in  general  he  inculcated  moral  and  spiritual 
duties ;  not  any  change  in  existing  grounds  and  principles,  but 
reform  in  practice.  He  censured  severely  the  hypocrisy  and 
ostentation  of  the  Pharisees  and  their  followers ;  their  exces- 
sive minuteness  even  in  matters  ordained,  and  their  "  making 
of  none  effect "  the  divine  law  by  human  additions  (Mark  vii. 
13).  Yet  he  offered  no  disparagement  to  the  Law  as  such. 
"While  he  insisted  on  its  weightier  matters,  he  would  not  have 
its  lesser  points  neglected  (Matt,  xxiii.  23).  He  enlarged  its 
spirit,  yet  acknowledged  its  letter  as  the  rule  still  in  force  on 
the  Jews.  His  own  example  was  emphatic.  His  plain 
declaration  implies  none  of  those  refined  distinctions  which 
have  been  sometimes  drawn  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  terms 
«  destroy"  and  "fulfil"  (Matt.  v.  17)  ;  to  quiet  the  apprehen- 
sions of  the  JcM^s  as  to  his  having  a  design  hostile  to  the  Law 
and  the  Prophets,  he  assures  them  that  the  very  aim  of  his 
life  was  to  obey  it  in  every  particular,  "to  fulfil,"  in  their 
phrase,  "  all  righteousness  "  (Matt.  iii.  15).  And  so  his  Jew- 
ish followers  were  exhorted  to  "  keep  the  commandments  '*  if 
they  "  would  enter  into  life  "  (Matt.  xix.  17)  ;  and  doing  so, 
they  were  "  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God  "  (Mark  xii. 
34),  though  not  yet  in  it.  Not  the  least  of  the  commandments 
was  to  be  broken  ;  no  part  of  its  force  to  fail  during  that  age 

or  dispensation  (Matt.  v.  18). 
4* 


42  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

Thus  far  in  general :  in  more  special  instances  we  find  him 
upholding  the  authority  of  the  existing  church  and  its  teach* 
ers,  and  the  appeal  to  its  tribunals  (Matt,  xxiii.  1  ;  xviii.  17). 
He  recognized  the  Mosaic  law  of  marriage  and  divorce,  and 
though  he  limited  the  latter  more  strictly  (Matt,  xix.  8),  it 
was  to  repress  the  gross  abuse  of  it  which  then  prevailed ; 
and  this  only  under  an  express  reference  to  what  was  the 
original  design  of  the  institution  from  the  authority  of  the 
books  of  Moses. 

He  referred  to  fasting  as  an  existing  rite  under  the  Law, 
though  sternly  reproving  the  hypocritical  and  ostentatious 
performance  of  it  (Matt.  vi.  18  ;  comp.  Isa,  Iviii.  5).  In  the 
same  terms  he  censured  formality  and  ostentation  in  almsgiv- 
ing and  prayer  (Matt.  vi.  1  -  5)  ;  and  taught  that  offerings  at 
the  altar  were  not  to  be  omitted,  though  reconcihation  was 
of  more  importance  (Matt  v.  23). 

He  particularly  and  repeatedly  reproved  the  Pharisaical 
moroseness  in  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  :  himself  wrought 
cures  on  it,  and  vindicated  works  of  charity  and  necessity 
(Matt  xii.  1)  ;  yet  only  by  such  arguments  and  examples  as 
Ihe  Jewish  teachers  themselves  allowed,  and  their  own  Scrip- 
tures afforded  authority  for.  But  he  did  not  in  any  way 
modify  or  abolish  it,  or  substitute  any  other  for  it,  though  he 
fully  asserted  his  power  to  do  so ;  and  expressly  urged  upon 
them  the  consideration  that  it  was  made  for  "  the  man  "  *  (i.  e. 
those  to  whom  it  was  appointed),  and  not  "  the  man  "  for  it ; 
as  an  institution  of  a  permanent  kind  connected  with  the 
moral  ends  of  man's  being ;  adapted  to  the  parties  for  whom 
it  was  designed,  but  having  nothing  in  its  nature  of  unchange- 
able or  general  obligation  to  which  mankind  were  to  conform. 

He  defeated  insidious  questions  by  an  apf>eal  to  the  Law 
itself:  "What  is  written?"  (Luke  x.  26;  Mark  x.  8,  &c.) ; 
and  taking  occasion  from  a  pomt  disputed  among  them, 
he  enforced  the  two  grecU  commandmenU  (Matt.  xxii.  37; 

•  This  is  dearly  the  force  of  the  original  (Mark  U.  27),  hukrhvSoh 
Bpomov. 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  43 

comp.  with  Deut.  vi.  5  ;  Lev.  xix.  18 ;  Matt.  vii.  12 ;  Tobit 
iv.  15)  as  the  sum  of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets,  and  in  general 
urged  obedience  on  the  very  principle  and  promise  of  the 
Law  itself:  "  Do  this,  and  thou  shalt  live  "  (Luke  x.  28  ;  Rom. 
X.  3  ;  Gal.  iii.  12 ;  comp.  with  Lev.  xviii.  5 ;  Ezek.  xx.  11 ; 
Neh.  ix.  29). 

He  took  the  Decalogue  as  the  text  of  his  instructions  to  the 
Jews  (Mark  x.  19  ;  Matt.  v.  21,  &c. ;  xix.  16,  &c.)  ;  and 
made  many  enlargements  upon  it :  giving  them  new  precepts 
expressly  in  addition  to  it,  and  not  as  unfoldiny  anything 
already  contained  or  implied  in  ity  and  expressly  contrasting 
his  own  teaching  with  what  "  was  said  of  old."  But  we  find 
no  modification  or  softening  of  the  Law^  no  repeal  of  one  part 
and  retaining  another,  as  is  often  imagined. 

Christ's  teaching  during  his  ministry  was  plainly  but  pre- 
liminary and  preparatory  to  the  establishment  of  the  new  dis- 
pensation. His  general  discourses  were  simply  practical,  yet 
with  an  obvious  peculiarity  of  adaptation  to  the  ideas  of  the 
Jewish  people.  "  The  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  "  were  veiled 
in  parables  to  the  multitude,  explained  to  the  disciples  in 
private,  and  understood  only  by  those  who  "  had  ears  to  hear  '* 
(Matt.  xiii.  9-17).  During  his  ministry  "the  kingdom  of 
heaven  suffered  violence"  (Matt.  xi.  12),  the  more  enlight- 
ened partially  understood  it,  and  the  strong  in  spirit  forced 
an  entrance. 

He  pointed  to  the  necessity  of  a  new  beginning  from  first 
principles  (Matt.  ix.  17  ;  xviii.  1),  for  becoming  as  little  chil- 
dren ;  holding  out  the  prospect  of  a  progressive  enlighten- 
ment (John  viii.  31),  urging  the  Jews  especially  to  search 
their  own  Scriptures  (John  v.  39),  (those  in  which  ye  think 
ye  have  eternal  life,)  in  support  of  his  claims,  and  insisting 
especially  on  a  new  and  higher  "  regeneration  "  than  that  ac- 
knowledged by  the  Rabbis  (John  iii.  3). 

He  repeatedly  declared  his  mission  to  be  only  to  the  House 
of  Israel.  In  some  few  instances,  indeed,  Gentiles  came  to 
him ;  but  no  distinct  instruction  was  given,  except  in  the  one 
remarkable  case  of  the  woman  of  Samaria,  wliich  is  peculiar- 


44  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

ly  important  as  being  the  only  distinct  reference  in  Christ's 
teaching  to  the  new  dispensation  as  extending  to  the  Gentiles, 
and  the  termination  of  the  old  with  respect  to  the  Jews  (John 
iv.  21). 

According  to  the  whole  system  disclosed  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment,  it  is  clear  that  Christ's  kingdom  could  not  properly  begin 
till  after  his  death  and  resurrection  (Luke  xxiv.  46).  Its  ex- 
tension to  all  nations,  though  more  than  once  hinted  o^  in  his 
discourses  (Matt.  viii.  11  ;  John  x.  16,  &c.),  and  indirectly 
figured  out  in  several  of  the  parables,  was  not  positively  an- 
nounced till  the  final  charge  was  given  to  the  Apostles  (Matt, 
xxviii.  19  ;  Mark  xvi.  16 ;  Luke  xxiv.  47 ;  Acts  i.  8). 

IV.     TTie  Teaching  of  the  Apostles. 

The  preaching  of  the  Apostles  in  the  first  instance  was 
confined  to  Jews  and  proselytes,  who  continued  under  the  Law 
and  in  the  worship  of  the  synagogue,  simply  adding  the  belief 
in  Jesus  as  the  Messiali,  and  joining  in  Christian  communion. 

The  Apostles  themselves  conformed  to  the  Law  in  all  par- 
ticulars, even  St.  Paul,  while  he  claimed  the  liberty  of  doing 
otherwise ;  and  St.  Peter  was  reproached  with  inconsistency 
in  deviating  from  it  even  in  one  point  (Acts  xxi.  24 ;  GaL 
ii.  11). 

The  first  great  step  was  the  announcement  of  the  abolition 
of  the  separation  between  Jew  and  Gentile,  commenced  in 
the  commission  to  Peter  to  convert  Cornelius  (Acts  x.  34). 
Yet  in  fact  Christianity  was  long  confined  chiefly  to  Jews  or 
proselytes,  or  Gentile  converts  from  among  tliose  who  )iad 
previously  in  some  degree  conformed  to  the  Law.  Li  address- 
ing such  parties  the  appeal  would  be  naturally  made  to  the 
Old  Testament  as  furnishing  proofs  of  Christianity. 

Of  the  preaching  to  the  Stimaritans  nothing  is  recoixled, 
but  it  was  doubtless  accortlant  with  the  words  of  Christ  to  the 
Samaritan  woman,  and  could  involve  little  reference  to  Jewish 
obligations. 

When  purely  Gentiles,  or  heathens,  were  addressed,  there 
is  no  evidence  or  instance  of  any  reference  being  made  to 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  4o 

Old  Testament  authority,  to  the  Law  as  preliminary  to  tlie 
Gospel,  or  to  any  supposed  primitive  religion,  as  to  a  sort  of 
prior,  but  forgotten,  obligation.  The  appeal  was  (in  all  the 
few  cases  recorded)  to  the  natural  evidences  of  one  God,  to 
the  moral  law  of  conscience,  and  then  directly  to  the  fact  of 
Christ's  resurrection  and  its  consequences.  Such  was  the 
tenor  of  St.  Paul's  discourse  at  Lystra  and  at  Athens  (Acts 
xvii.  22;  xiv.  17),  and  such  the  purport  of  his  whole  elabo- 
rate argument  in  the  beginning  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
(Rom.  i.  18 ;  ii.  14,  &c.),  where  he  positively  and  pointedly 
makes  his  appeal  to  the  Gentiles,  not  on  the  ground  of  the 
revealed  law,  but  solely  on  that  of  natural  reason  and  con- 
science. And  just  as  he  referred  the  Jews  to  their  Scrip- 
tures, so,  to  enforce  his  argument  with  authorities  to  the  hea- 
then, he  quotes  their  own  poets  (Acts  xvii.  28 ;  1  Cor.  xv.  33 ; 
Tit.  i.  12). 

The  omission  of  any  reference  to  previous  obligations 
(which,  if  they  had  existed,  were  certainly  unknown)  is  em- 
phatic. Any  supposed  universal  law  given  to  the  Patriarchs 
would  clearly  have  required  to  be  revived,  but  no  intimation 
or  even  allusion  of  the  kind  is  to  be  found  in  the  records  of 
the  Apostolic  teaching.  Such  a  reference,  for  example,  was 
manifestly  requisite  for  any  revival  of  a  primeval  Sabbath, 
had  it  been  contemplated ;  but  it  is  needless  to  say,  no  such 
intimation  can  be  found.  The  only  allusion  to  the  subject  at 
all  is  addressed  to  the  Hebrews  (Heb.  iv.  4),  and  the  turn  of 
the  allusion  is  figurative  and  obviously  quite  different. 

The  very  natural  belief  of  the  Jews,  that  the  Gentiles  were 
incapable  of  justification,  except  through  conformity  to  the 
covenant  of  circumcision,  at  a  very  early  period  led  to  attempts 
to  impose  the  Law  on  Gentile  converts  (Acts  xv.  1  -  28),  until 
the  Apostolic  decree  finally  settled  the  question,  in  which  cer- 
tain observances  only  are  retained  and  prescribed,  described 
as  practically  "necessary"  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
times :  the  omission  of  all  others,  as  meats.  Sabbaths,  &c.,  is 
emphatic,  as  well  as  the  absence  of  any  recognition,  whether 
generally  of  the  Law  as  such,  or  of  any  previous  dispensation, 


46  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

or  of  any  part  of  it,  or  an  enlarged  or  modified  view  of  its 
precepts  to  be  made  the  rule  of  Christian  obedience  Bui 
60  inveterate  were  the  prepossessions  of  the  Jews,  that  later 
attempts  of  this  kind  were  continually  made,  which  called 
forth  the  special  censures  of  St.  Paul,  and  the  strongest  argu- 
ments against  these  notions  so  destructive  to  the  real  spirit  of 
the  Gospel,  such  as  form  the  main  purport  of  his  Epistles  to 
the  Galatians  and  Colossians,  of  material  portions  of  those  to 
the  Romans,  and  the  Second  to  the  Corinthians  (as,  e.  g., 
2  Cor.  iii.,  &c.),  and  of  scattered  declarations  in  nearly  all. 

Hence  the  expression  Christian  "  liberty  "  obviously  applies 
only  by  way  of  contrast  to  the  particular  instance  of  Judaiz- 
ing,  while  the  assurance  "  ye  are  not  under  the  Law,  but  under 
grace,"  (the  necessity  for  which  arose  solely  from  the  same 
cause,)  is  most  carefully  guarded  against  any  such  misapplica- 
tion as  would  sanction  sin,  any  tendency  to  the  preposterous 
doctrine  of  Antinomianism  (Rom.  vi.  1,  14).  No  such  lan- 
guage need  have  been  used  with  respect  to  Gentile  converts 
but  for  such  attempts  at  enslaving  them.  The  Apostle  ad- 
dressed distinctly  both  those  "  under  the  Law,"  —  the  Jews,  — 
and  those  "  not  under  the  Law,"  —  the  Gentiles  ;  the  former 
generally  were  still  under  it,  though  they  might  have  been 
released  from  it  But  the  latter  could  not  be  released  from 
that  to  which  they  had  never  been  sub/ect.  To  say  that  they 
were  free  from  the  law  of  the  Hebrews  was  indeed  true,  but 
superfiiLous  ;  they  needed  not  to  be  told  so ;  what  was  to  bring 
them  under  it  ?  certainly  not  the  Grospel. 

The  strong  feeling  of  the  Jews  with  respect  to  the  distinc- 
tion of  circumcision  appears,  however,  very  reasonable;  it 
was  not  a  mere  national  prejudice,  but  arose  purely  out  of  the 
belief  in  the  Divine  authority  of  the  covenant,  and  to  them 
seemed  to  involve  all  the  other  obligations  of  the  Law,  not  to 
be  abrogated  without  the  loss  of  that  distinction.  Hence  the 
difficulty  of  the  argument  with  them.  It  is,  however,  con- 
ducted with  consummate  skill  by  the  Apostle,  directing  his 
reasoning  with  admirable  effect,  m)  i«s  at  once  to  bear  on  the 
of  the  Gentiles,  and  with  equal  force  on  that  of  the  Jews, 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  47 

m  a  way  which  they  must  acknowledge  as  conclusive  on  their 
own  principles  (as  in  Rom.  xi.  13,  &c.). 

He  maintained  himself  a  compliance  with  the  ordinances 
yet  subsisting :  "  to  the  Jews  he  became  a  Jew,"  as  "  under 
the  Law  "  ;  to  the  Gentiles  as  "  without  the  Law  "  (1  Cor.  ix. 
20)  :  but  this  was  no  deceptive  assumption,  since  he  actually 
was  in  one  sense  both. 

The  distinction  of  meats,  clean  or  unclean,  of  days  to  be 
kept  holy  or  not,  remained  actually  in  force  to  the  Jewish 
Christians  until  their  convictions  became  sufficiently  enlight- 
ened to  see  the  abolition  of  those  distinctions.  To  the  Gen- 
tile it  was  equally  clear  that  they  were  not  obligatory  on  him, 
while  his  service  was  a  spiritual  one  in  faith.  In  Sabbaths 
and  meats  each  might  judge  for  himself  (Rom.  xiv.  5,  6) ; 
there  was  no  moral  immutable  obligation,  but  neither  was  to 
judge  the  other.  Both  acting  in  faith  were  exhorted  to  mu- 
tual charity,  a  line  of  conduct  pre-eminently  recommended  by 
the  Apostle's  own  example  (1  Cor.  x.  23  ;  viii.  13,  &c.).  But 
there  was  no  compromise  of  essential  truths ;  we  cannot  but 
be  struck  with  the  contrast  of  the  Apostle's  liberality  of  sen- 
timent with  his  strenuous  assertion  of  Christian  freedom. 
"  Christ  crucified "  (1  Cor.  i.  25)  was  preached  alike  to  Jew 
and  Greek,  the  Author  of  Salvation  equally  to  those  under 
the  Law  and  those  without  it  (Rom.  xv.  8,  9). 

To  both  parties  it  was  argued  that  they  stood  equally  con- 
demned in  the  sight  of  God.  The  Gentiles  were  expressly 
shown  to  be  in  this  state  of  condemnation  from  their  own 
moral  depravity,  not  from  any  sentence  of  a  covenant  which 
their  remote  forefathers  had  broken,  as  some  have  fancied. 
Setting  aside  the  total  unreasonableness  of  such  an  imagina- 
tion, nothing  can  be  more  clear  or  positive  than  the  argument 
of  St.  Paul,  that  they  stood  condemned  expressly  without  any 
such  revealed  law,  and  solely  by  their  violation  ojC  the  law  of 
conscience,  written  by  natural  light  in  their  hearts  (Rom.  ii. 
15).  Still  less  were  they  to  be  awakened  by  any  terrors  of 
tlie  law  of  Sinai  given  to  the  Jews. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Jew  stood  condemned  because  he 


48  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

had  transgressed  the  law  of  revelatiou,  which  he  acknowl- 
edged to  be  holy,  and  just,  and  good,  and  in  which  he  beUeved 
himself  justified.  St.  Paul  therefore  expressly  argues,  that 
he  was  not  only  not  justified^  but  positively  condemned,  by  that 
very  Law  in  which  he  trusted  and  made  his  boast,  which  "  ho 
approved  **  and  "  served  with  his  mind  " ;  yet  in  truth,  "  with 
his  flesh  he  served  sin  "  (Rom.  vii.  25,  &c.).*  The  difficulty 
was  to  convince  the  Jew,  that  he  stood  condemned  by  his  own 
law  ;  that  "  by  it  he  had  the  knowledge  of  sin,"  that  "  the 
strength  of  sin  was  the  Law,"  but  the  victory'  in  Christ 

Both  being  thus  alike  under  condemnation,  though  by  differ- 
ent laws,  it  followed  that  both  were  to  be  accepted  and  justi- 
fied on  another,  a  new  and  common  ground,  that  of  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  the  grand  point  thus  was,  that  the  line  of 
separation  was  removed;  all  distinctions  were  merged  and 
lost  in  the  greater  privilege  now  conferred  by  the  (rospel,  "  of 
the  twain  was  made  one  new  man  "  (Eph.  ii.  11  -  22 ;  1  Cor. 
vii.  19;  Gal.  vi.  15;  Col.  iii.  11),  Christ  was  to  be  all  and 
in  all. 

Christ  redeemed  the  Jews  "  from  the  curse  of  the  Law  ** 
(Gal.  iii.  15 ;  iv.  3)  ;  the  Gentile  "  from  all  iniquity  "  (Tit  ii. 
14).  Both  were  called  to  repentance  and  faith,  but  on  differ- 
ent grounds;  both  led,  though  by  different  ways,  to  moral 
duties ;  to  the  Jew  obedience  was  "  the  fulfilment  of  the  Law  ** 
(Gal.  V.  14;  Rom.  xiii.  8),  "the  end  of  the  commandment** 
(1  Tim.  i.  5),  "  the  pure  service "  (James  i.  27  [6pr)aKtia^, 
**  the  royal  law  according  to  the  Scripture  **  (James  ii.  8)  ;  to 
the  Gentile  without  any  such  reference  it  was  simply  "  the 
things  just,  and  pure,  and  true  **  (Phil.  iv.  3),  in  accordance 
with  the  natural  moral  sense ;  to  "  live  soberly,  righteously, 
and  godly  "  (Tit  ii.  12)  ;  to  walk  "  honc4»tly  **  (Rom.  xiii.  13) ; 
but  all  this  based  on  the  high  and  peculiar  motives  of  Chris- 
tian faith.  , 

To  the  Jews  the  grounds  of  Christian  obligsition  were  often 

*  Such  at  Icost  appears  to  me  to  be  the  real  and  plain  tenor  of  this 
chapter,  so  often  imagined  difficult  to  rescue  from  the  eager  grasp  of  the 
Antinomian. 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  49 

represented  and  enforced  bj  analogies  drawn  from  the  Old 
Testament.  Thus  the  Gospel  itself  is  bj  analogy,  and  with 
especial  reference  to  the  words  of  the  Prophets,  called  a 
covenant  (Heb.  viii.  6;  comp.  Jer.  xxxi.  31):  not  implying 
that  there  was  really  any  covenant,  but  only  that  it  stood  in 
the  same  relation  to  Christians  as  the  covenant  did  to  the  Jews ; 
sin  ;e  it  is  expressly  distinguished  (indeed  the  whole  argument 
of  the  Apostle  turns  on  the  distinction.  Gal.  iii.  18)*  as  not 
really  a  covenant,  but  a  free  promise  and  gift  ;  not  the 
act  or  deed  of  two  parties  as  a  compact,  but  of  one  as  a  gift 
or  a  testament. 

The  Jew  was  to  be  brought  gradually*to  see  his  deliverance 
from  the  "bondage"  (Gal.  iv.  25;  2  Cor.  iii.  6-14;  Heb. 
xii.  18)  of  Sinai,  effected  by  his  increasing  faith  and  knowl- 
edge, supported  by  the  arguments  from  Abraham  (Gal.  iii.  6 ; 
Rom.  iv.  1),  and  the  Prophets  (Hab.  ii.  9 ;  Heb.  vii.  18)  ; 
"  the  Law  being  his  schoolmaster  to  bring  him  to  Christ "  (Gal. 
iii.  24).  The  Law  ceased  at  no  one  time,  but  to  each  indi- 
vidual as  his  belief  and  enlightenment  progressively  emanci- 
pated him  (Rom.  xiv.  1  -  6).t  It  was  never  formally  re- 
scinded :  it  died  a  natural  death. 

Wherever  the  cessation  ot  the  Law  is  spoken  of,  it  is  as  a 
whole,  without  reference  to  moral  or  ceremonial,  letter  or 
spirit.  We  find  no  such  distinction  as  that  "  the  Law,  as  being 
of  Moses,  was  abrogated,  yet,  as  the  Law  of  the  Spirit,  still 
binding";!  the  language  of  St.  Paul  is  utterly  opposed  to 
any  such  idea. 

But  if  all  this  had  been  otherwise,  it  would  little  concern 
us  ;  the  Law  should  be  contemplated  as  a  national  and  localy 

*  The  obscurity  of  the  passage  is  admitted ;  but  what  I  have  here 
stated  appears  to  me  to  be  the  real  tenor  of  it,  though  fully  aware  of  the 
existence  of  difference  of  opinion  among  commentators. 

t  The  Rabbis  held  that  distinctions  of  meats  and  even  the  Law  itself 
were  to  cease  when  the  Messiah  came,  as  also  the  Sabbath,  arguing  ex- 
presshj  from  Isa.  Ixvi.  23.  (R.  Samuel,  in  Talmud,  in  titulo  Nidr, 
Cited  by  Grotius  de  Ver.,  V.  9,  10.) 

t  See  Life  of  Dr.  Arnold,  I.  355. 
5 


50  THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

rather  than  as  a  temporary  dispensation  ;  for,  had  it  not  been 
temporary,  it  would  still  have  been  restricted  to  one  people : 
the  Gentiles  would  have  had  no  part  or  concern  in  its  con- 
tinuance (unless  as  becoming  proselytes  to  it),  nor  had  they 
in  its  cessation.  Christianity  as  addressed  to  the  Gentiles  was 
not  founded  on  Judaism :  *  nor  does  it  imply  any  substitution 
of  one  obligation  for  another :  it  stands  simply  on  its  own 
ground  :  the  essential  character  of  its  institutions  is  indepen- 
dent. Its  few  observances  were  in  fact  at  first  adopted  along 
with  those  of  Mosaism,  by  the  churches  "  of  the  circum- 
cision," who  formed  so  large  a  part  of  the  early  Christian 
community.  • 

From  this  circumstance  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles  would 
necessarily  exhibit  a  large  infusion  of  Judaical  ideas ;  and 
we  accordingly  find  them  introducing  a  multitude  of  adapta- 
tions of  passages  from  the  Old  Testament;  besides  maxims 
and  proverbial  sayings  (e.  g.  Rom.  xii.  20 ;  James  v.  20 ; 
1  Pet.  iv.  8)  and  fiarms  of  expression,  habitual  among  the 
Jews,  which  sometimes,  mistaken  for  original  sentiments,  lead 
to  serious  misconceptions.  Their  reasonings  would  naturally 
be  built  upon  opinions  currently  received,  and  on  appeals  to 
the  Jewish  Scriptures,  of  undeniable  force  to  those  who 
recognized  its  authority;  and  the  introduction  of  analogies 
and  applications  of  the  incidents  and  language  of  the  Old 
Testament  (e.  g.  Rom.  vii.  1 ;  Eph.  vi.  1 ;  1  Pet.  iii.  10 ; 
1  Tim.  V.  18)  for  the  instruction  of  converts  who  could  only 
be  convinced  through  such  associations  of  the  new  truths  with 
the  old. 


*  See  the  whole  paragraph  in  Ignatius  (partially  quoted  at  the  bofi^ii- 
niDg  of  this  essay)  for  an  eloquent  exposition  of  tliis  idea.  It  includes 
ft  pasiMige  which,  as  I  think  most  unnecessarily,  ha^  been  the  subject  of 
much  discussion,  as  supposed  to  allude  to  the  Lord's  day ;  hut  it  appears 
to  me  that  the  simple  sense  of  irvpuix^  (tail  is  "  the  Lord's  life,"  which 
was  to  become  the  pnttom  of  the  spiritual  life  of  those  Jewish  converts 
who  saw  their  emancipation  from  the  Law,  and  therefore  lived  fujKtrt 
eafi^ariCovTts,  —  oKXh  Korh  Kvpuutfiv  (tahv  (Sivrts.  See  my  article 
**  Lobd's  Dat/'  in  Kitto's  Ctfclopcedia  of  BibUocU  LUerutun. 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  51 

It  is  in  this  way  only  that  the  Apostle  Paul  sanctions  any 
use  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  ;  as  in  the  practical  and 
typical  accommodation  of  passages  to  points  of  Christian  in- 
struction (Rom.  XV.  4 ;  1  Cor.  x.  1,  &c.).  It  was  thus  that 
even  to  Timothy  the  Old  Testament  was  still  to  be  "  profit- 
able," but  only  when  applied  "  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ " 
(2  Tim.  iii.  15).  And  thus  St.  Peter  (the  very  Apostle  of 
the  circumcision)  commends  the  use  of  the  prophetical  writ- 
ings, only  as  preparatory  and  auxiUary  to  the  Gospel  (2  Pet. 
i.  19). 

The  more  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  precise  points  of 
analogy  dwelt  upon,  the  more  we  perceive  the  independent 
spiritual  characteristics  of  the  Gospel  to  which  they  point ;  as 
in  the  typical  application  of  the  temple  to  the  body  of  Christ, 
and  thence  to  the  community  of  Christians  (1  Cor.  iii.  16)  ; 
of  Jerusalem  to  that  wliich  is  above  (Gal.  iv.  26  ;  Heb.  xii. 
22)  ;  the  laver  to  regeneration  (Tit.  iii.  5,  \ovTp6v ;  Exod. 
xxx.  18,  &c.)  ;  the  altar  and  sacrifices  primarily  to  the  death 
of  Christ  (Heb.  xiii.  10 ;  x.  1,  &c.)  ;  and  thence  in  a  lower 
sense  to  almsgiving  (Heb.  xiii.  16  ;  Phil.  iv.  18)  ;  to  praise ; 
to  the  reasonable  service  of  Christians  (Rom.  xii.  1  ;  Heb. 
xi.  20)  ;  the  priesthood  primarily  to  the  person  and  office  of 
Christ,  though,  in  a  secondary  sense,  to  all  Christians  (1  Pet. 
ii.  9)  ;  circumcision  to  purity  of  heart  (Deut.  x.  16;  xxx.  6  ; 
Jer.  iv.  4 ;  Rom.  ii.  29  ;  Col.  ii.  11)  ;  the  anointing  to  grace 
(1  John  ii.  20) ;  the  Sabbath  to  the  rest  reserved  for  the 
faithful  (Heb.  iv.  9).  In  after  times  the  same  desire  of  adap- 
tation without  apostolic  warrant,  and  carried  often  to  extrav- 
agant lengths,  led  to  a  larger  use  of  the  Old  Testament 
among  Christian  writers,  and  the  spirit  of  allegorizing  and 
evangelizing  all  parts  of  it.  The  Apostles*  arguments  and 
representations,  misunderstood  from  want  of  consideration  of 
the  circumstances,  and  appeals  ad  hominem  taken  positively, 
in  modem  times  have  become  subjects  of  endless  mistake  and 
confusion. 

But  in  the  Apostles'  teaching  we  find  no  dependence  recog- 
nized of  the  one  system  on  the  other ;  no  such  idea  as  that  of 


62  THE    LAW    AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

a  transference  of  Old  Testament  ordinances  to  Christianity ; 
or  the  fulfilment  of  one  in  the  other :  for  example,  we  find  no 
appeal  to  the  Old  Testament  for  the  basis  of  marriage^  the 
reference  of  St.  Paul  (Eph.  v.  31 ;  1  Cor.  vii.  2)  to  the  pri- 
meval precepts  being  made  only  incidentally,  and  the  Chris- 
tian mstitution  essentially  grounded  on  a  different  principle  ; 
we  perceive  no  carrying  on  of  the  priesthood  in  the  Christian 
ministry  (which  was  derived  from  the  officers  of  the  syna- 
gogue^  not  of  the  temple)  *  ;  no  continuation  of  sacrifices  in  the 
Lord's  supper,  or  of  the  Sabbath  in  the  Lord's  day  (charitable 
collections  were  made  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,t  1  Cor. 
xvi.  2),  precisely  because  it  was  not  the  Sabbath,  on  which 
they  were  unlawful. 

Yet,  from  a  misconception  of  points  of  analogy  in  such 
cases,  often  directly  at  variance  with  the  express  words  of  the 
Apostles,  opinions  have  prevailed  on  these  and  the  like  points 
tending  not  a  little  to  perplex  and  impair  the  simplicity  of  the 
Grospel. 

All  the  essentially  Christian  institutions  were  independent 
and  simple.  We  must  carefully  distinguish  from  the  more 
essential  and  permanent,  some  minor  ordinances  of  a  purely 
temporary  and  occasional  character,  which  certainly  bear  n 
more  formal  appearance ;  but  were  evidently  adopted  for  the 
sake  of  peace  and  union,  and  especially  for  the  great  objects 
of  mutually  conciliating  the  Jewish  and  Gentile  converts,  or 
from  a  wish  not  abruptly  to  violate  existing  customs ;  as,  e.  g., 
the  injunctions  in  the  apostolic  decree  (Acts  xv.),  already 
referred  to;  and  some  of  those  given  by  St.  Paul  to  the 
church  at  Corinth  (jis  throughout  1  Cor.  v.,  vi.,  and  vii.),  and 
to  Timoty  (1  Tim.  v.,  &c). 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  practice  of  fasting  (see  Acts 

♦  Soe  Vitrinjfft,  Eh  SynagogA,  of  which  vnhuihlo  work  an  excellent 
abridged  translation  has  been  published  by  tlio  licv.  J.  L.  Bcniard. 
London.    1842. 

t  Cocceius,  quoted  by  Vitringa,  says :  "  This  was  ordained  on  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  as  being  regarded  non  at  festum  sod  ut  (ftydatfiov,'* 
See  Bernard's  Vitringa,  pp.  75  and  167. 


THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  53 

xiii.  2)  ;  there  does  not  exist  a  single  precept  or  hint  for  its 
general  adoption  by  Christians,  much  less  is  there  any  sanc- 
tion for  other  ascetic  observances,  which  soon  claimed  an 
avaihng  merit  utterly  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel. 
So  far  as  they  had  begun  to  prevail,  they  met  with  unequiv- 
ocal censure  (Col.  ii.  18-23  ;  1  Tim.  iv.  3,  8)  from  St.  Paul. 
Of  other  institutions  of  Christian  worship,  very  little  can  be 
collected  from  the  New  Testament.  At  first  the  disciples  met 
daily  for  prayer  and  communion  (Acts  ii.  26).  In  one  in- 
stance afterwards  it  may  he  implied  that  they  assembled 
peculiarly  on  the  first  day  of  the  week  (Acts  xx.  7)  ;  and  in 
the  latest  period  of  the  New  Testament  age  "  the  Lord's  day  '* 
is  spoken  of  once,  but  wholly  without  explanation  (Rev. 
i.  10). 

The  ministry  and  form  of  church  government  were  bor- 
rowed directly  from  the  synagogues,  which  were  actually  the 
churches  of  the  Jewish  converts.  Certain  peculiar  regula- 
tions also  were  connected  with  the  extraordinary  gifts  (Mark 
xvi.  17),  as  temporal  visitatioBS  (1  Cor.  xi.  30,  &c.),  and  the 
power  of  inflicting  them  (1  Cor.  v.  5),  and  the  anointing  of 
the  sick  (James  v.  14,  comp.  with  Mark  xvi.  18,  and  vi.  13). 

Christianity,  as  indeed  it  is  hardly  conceivable  should  have 
been  otherwise,  was  at  first  communicated  and  established  in 
the  way  of  adaptation  in  its  outward  form  to  existing  ideas 
and  conditions.  Thus  it  won  its  way  at  first  according  to  the 
economic  dispensations  of  divine  grace;  while  its  spiritual 
essence  asserted  its  internal  influence  over  the  disciple  who 
had  the  capacity  to  receive  it ;  and  under  whatever  outward 
aspect,  the  words  of  Christ  were  verified,  "  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  within  you." 

V.   Subsequent  Views  of  the  Law  and  the  Gospel. 

The  tendency  to  engraft  Judaism  in  a  greater  or  less  degree 
on  Christianity  in  the  early  Church,  the  steps  by  which  such  a 
system  advanced  and  gained  ground,  and  the  extent  to  which 
it  was  carried,  are  not  difficult  to  trace  or  to  explain.  But 
the  peculiar  turn  which  has  been  given  to  somewhat  similar 

5* 


54  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

ideas  in  modern  times  is,  apparently,  much  less  easy  to  justify 
or  account  for  on  any  rational  principles. 

The  constant  appeals  of  the  Apostles  to  the  Old  Testament 
in  their  arguments  with  the  Jews  were  doubtless  of  the  most 
primary  importance  and  convincing  cogency  with  those  they 
addressed ;  to  the  Gentiles  they  would  not  have  been  so ;  yet 
the  peculiar  character  and  result  of  the  appeal  was,  no  doubt, 
felt  to  be  precisely  that  of  valuable  testimony  extorted  from  an 
adverse  party,  and  brought  to  support  our  cause,  and  there- 
fore in  constantly  exhibiting  which  a  sort  of  triumph  is  felt 

Hence  the  more  general  mtroduction  in  the  early  Church, 
even  among  the  Gentiles,  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures, 
and  the  prominence  given  to  them,  which  continued  by  custom 
long  after  the  original  occasion  had  ceased. 

But,  for  the  Gentile  converts,  with  the  broad  distinction 
between  themselves  and  the  Jewish  churches  before  their 
eyes,  this  reference  to  the  Jewish  Scriptures  could  not  by 
possibility  degenerate  into  such  inconsistent  notions  of  their 
application  as  would  suppose  Gentile  Christians  brought  under 
the  obligations  of  the  old  precepts. 

Without  direct  Judaizing,  however,  the  gradual  adoption 
of  some  Judaical  forms  in  Christian  worship  naturally  arose 
out  of  the  synagogal  model  on  which  all  the  first  churches 
were  framed.  And  it  would  not  be  a  matter  of  surprise  if, 
occasionally,  Judaical  ideas  should  have  been  thus  mixed  up 
with  Christian  doctrines,  institutions,  and  practices,  even  to  a 
greater  degree  than  we  find  was  the  case. 

The  Jewish  converts  continued,  along  with  their  other  pe- 
culiarities, to  observe  the  Sabbath,  which,  it  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  say,  the  Gentiles  did  not.  From  an  early  period  it 
seems  probable  that  both  Jewish  and  Gentile  churches  had 
begun  to  hold  religious  assemblies  on  the  first  day  of  the 
week.     But  it  is  from  Justin  Martyr*  (a.  d.  140)  that  we 


*  Jastin.,  Apol,  i.  S  67.  For  other  authorities  on  this  |)oint  the  reader 
la  referred  to  my  article,  "  Lord's  Dat/'  in  Kitto's  Ci/ckpcedia  of  Bib- 
liocU  LUaxUurt, 


THE    LAW    AND    THE    GOSPEL.  55 

first  learn  the  regular  establishment  of  this  practice,  as  well 
as  its  professed  ground  and  object ;  as  being  the  day  on  which 
the  work  of  creation  was  begun,  and  on  which  also  the  new 
spiritual  creation  was  commenced  by  the  resurrection  of 
Christ.  Other  writers  *  adopt  more  fanciful  analogies,  refer- 
ring to  the  Mosaic  creation  ;  yet  always  distinctly  such  as  to 
exclude  all  idea  of  any  reference  to  a  primitive  Sabbath  (had 
they  believed  in  it),  which  would  have  been  an  entire  con- 
fusion of  ideas  between  the  day  of  the  commencement  of  the 
creation  and  that  of  its  cessation. 

In  the  course  of  the  first  few  centuries  many  corruptions 
had  crept  in ;  and  we  then  for  the  first  time  trace  some  in- 
creasing precision  in  the  observance  of  the  Lord's  day,  upheld 
in  certain  expressions  of  TertuUian  f  (a.  d.  200),  Dionysius 
of  Corinth  (somewhat  later),  Clement  of  Alexandria,  J  Hilary,§ 
and  others. 

These  writers  speak  of  the  Lord's  day  in  conjunction  with 
the  Sabbath,  but  always  in  the  way  of  contrast,  and  as  ob- 
viously distinct  institutions.  And  doubtless,  with  the  view  of 
conciliating  the  Judaizing  churches  it  was  that  the  celebration  of 
both  days  was  afterwards  enjoined,  both  in  the  so-called  Apos- 
tolic Constitutions  ||  (a  forgery  of  the  fourth  century),  and  by 
Constantine,^  who  first  prohibited  business  on  the  Lord's  day, 

=*  In  the  spurious  Epistle  of  Barnabas  (which,  as  generally  allowed  a 
forgery  of  the  second  or  third  century,  may  be  taken  as  evidence  of 
views  then  held)  the  writer  makes  out  a  comparison  of  the  six  days  of 
the  Creation  with  six  ages  of  the  world,  followed  by  a  seventh  of  rest 
under  the  Gospel,  to  which  is  to  succeed  an  eighth  of  final  triumph,  and 
"  therefore,"  he  adds,  "  we  keep  the  eighth  day  with  joy,  on  which  also 
Jesus  rose  from  the  dead."     {Ep.  I.  15.) 

t  De  Orat.  §  23.  }  Strom.  VII.  744. 

§   Comm.  in  Psalm.  Prol.  '  \\  Apost.  Const.  VII.  24. 

IT  Euseb.  IV.  De  Vit.  Const.  18.  See  also  Jortin's  Remarks,  III.  326, 
A  singular  exemplification  of  the  continuance  of  this  twofold  observ- 
ance, carried  out  even  to  a  great  degree  of  rigor,  and  preserved  to  mod- 
ern times,  has  been  presented  in  the  discovery  by  Major  Harris  of  an 
ancient  Judaized  Christian  church  in  the  interior  of  Ethiopia.  Some- 
thing similar  has  also  been  noticed  by  Mr.  Grant  among  the  Nestorians 
in  Armenia. 


56  THE   LAW   AND   THE   GOSPEL. 

vrith  a  special  exception  in  favor  of  the  labors  of  agriculture. 
The  Council  of  Laodicea,*  however,  took  an  opposite  tone, 
and  censured  the  Sabbath,  while  it  enjoined  the  Lord's  day. 

But  though  a  certain  kind  of  assimilation  between  the  two 
institutions  was  carried  farther  hj  some  later  writers,  yet 
neither  was  the  observance  itself  pushed  to  the  extent  which 
has  since  been  sometimes  contended  for ;  nor  was  it  possible 
for  that  confusion  of  ideas  between  the  two  institutions  to 
arise  which  in  modem  times  has  occasionally  prevailed ;  and 
still  less  was  such  a  notion  as  that  of  any  transfer  of  the  obli- 
gations of  the  one  to  the  other,  or  any  change  in  the  day,  ever 
conceived.f 

Down  to  later  times  we  trace  some  remains  of  the  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath  in  the  solemnization  of  Saturday  as  the 
eve  or  vigil  of  the  Lord's  day. 

The  constant  reference  to  the  Old  Testament  law  on  the 
part  of  the  Jewish  converts  not  unnaturally  led  to  the  disposi- 
tion to  find  for  it  at  least  some  sort  of  allegorical  application 
to  the  Gentiles.  Thus,  guided  possibly  by  the  figurative 
language  of  the  Apostle  (Heb.  iv.  4),  and  the  fondness  for 
what  they  termed  evangelizing  the  Old  Testament,  some  of 
the  Fathers  adopted  the  idea  of  a  metaphorical  interpretation 
of  the  fourth  commandment  (where,  of  course,  the  literal 
sense  could  not  apply)  in  the  case  of  Gentile  converts,  as 
meaning  the  perpetual  service  of  a  Christian  life.  | 

More  generally,  the  practice  of  introducing  even  thus  in- 
directly the  sanctions  of  the  Old  Testament  in  later  times 


♦  Cottnc.  of  Laodicea,  Can.  XXIX. 

t  Yet  so  inveterate  has  this  absurd  idea  become  in  the  minds  of  mod* 
crn  divines,  that  even  so  acute  and  independent  a  writer  as  Bishop  War- 
burton,  arj;uing  too  expressly  a|;siinst  the  Sttl)hatists,  spcziks  inciden- 
tally of  "a  change  in  the  day  having  been  made  by  tlie  primitive  Church," 
which  it  most  assuredly  never  was     {Div.  Jj^g.  IV.  34,  note.) 

X  Thus  Justin  Martyr  (AW.  cum  Trypho,  229)  says,  2a/9/3aT('fri» 
ijfiur  6  KOiviii  i>u/M>r  bionavrot  i6*Kti.  And  later,  to  the  same  effect, 
Augustine  {Ep.  119)  observea,  "Inter  omnia  decern  prwcepta  solum 
ibi  quod  do  sabbato  positoin  est  Bgurato  observandam  prrecipitur." 


THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  57 

began  to  assume  the  character  of  a  more  direct  habitual  ac- 
knowledgment of  its  authority.  And  in  the  earlier  stage  of 
the  Reformation,  some  more  precise  theories  of  this  kind  found 
ready  support  in  the  extravagant  notions  of  the  Uteral  appli- 
cations of  Scripture  into  which  the  violent  reaction  of  opinions 
carried  a  portion  of  the  Reformers,  involving  very  pecuUar 
notions  of  what  was  termed  "  the  moral  law  "  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, and  the  obligation  of  the  Sabbath  as  a  chief  point  and 
instance  of  it :  a  phrase,  the  very  use  of  which  betrays  some 
confusion  of  thought,  and  has  been  at  the  root  of  all  the 
popular  errors  on  the  subject. 

The  main  outline  of  the  theory  seems  to  have  been  this : 
it  was  held  that  the  Old  Testament,  and  more  especially  the 
Decalogue,  was  designed  to  convey  a  revelation  of  the  moral 
law  to  all  mankind ;  that  this  law,  without  reference  to  any 
anterior  distinctions  of  natural  morality  or  the  like,  derives  its 
whole  force  and  obligation  from  the  sole  will  of  God  positively 
declared,  and  is  to  be  found  specially  summed  up  in  these 
precise  commandments  ;  that  all  men  are  really  subject  to  it 
even  though  in  ignorance  of  it,  whether  Jews  or  Gentiles ; 
but  all,  even  when  endeavoring  to  Hve  by  it,  are  in  a  state  of 
bondage  and  stand  condemned  by  it :  from  this  bondage  and" 
condemnation  the  Gospel  by  grace  and  faith  releases  them, 
and  they  are  then  free  from  the  law  of  works,  and  enjoy 
"  Christian  liberty."  And  there  are  not  \^nting  some  who 
pushed  this  idea  still  further,  and  would  in  fact  make  this 
freedom  involve  a  release  from  the  obHgations  of  morality ; 
which  is  indeed  no  more  than  a  direct  consequence,  if  moral 
obligations  are  derived  from  no  other  source  than  those 
positive  commandments.  Such  was  the  consistent  theory 
of  Antinomianism,  a  theory  which  might  appear  startling 
to  those  not  versed  in  theological  systems,  but  which  re- 
ceived obvious  proof  from  the  hteral  application  of  Scripture 
texts. 

But  against  such  tenets  of  legal  and  sabbatical  formalism, 
Luther,  with  his  accustomed  masterly  grasp  of  the  breadth 
and  depth  of  evangelical  principles,  most  strenuously  con 


58  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

tended,*  as  did  also  Calvin,t  especially  denouncing  the  notion 
of  the  moral  obligation  of  the  Sabbath  as  one  of  the  "  follies 
of  false  prophets  "  (nugae  pseudo-prophetarum),  more  forcibly 
still  in  his  French  version,  as  "  mensonges  des  faux  docteurs." 

Calvin  also  appears  once  to  have  had  an  intention  of  fixing 
the  day  of  Christian  worship  on  Thursday,  as  he  said,  "  to 
evince  Christian  liberty  " ;  and  in  a  similar  spirit  Tindal  says, 
**  We  are  lords  of  the  Sabbath,  and  may  change  it  to  Monday 
or  any  other  day,  or  appoint  every  tenth  day,  or  two  days  in 
a  week,  as  we  find  it  expedient.**  X  The  idea  of  changing  a 
Divine  institution,  if  obligatory  at  all,  still  shows  some  of  the 
common  confusion  prevailing  in  the  Reformer's  mind. 

The  complete  doctrine  of  an  identification  of  the  Lord's 
day  with  the  Sabbath  seems  to  have  been  first  formally  pro- 
pounded by  Dr.  Bound  (1595),  —  a  divine  of  great  authority 
among  the  Puritans,  —  from  whom  it  was  adopted  by  the 
Westmmster  Assembly  in  their  Confession,  and  thence  has 
become  a  recognized  tenet  of  the  Scottish  and  other  Presby- 
terian communions  in  Great  Britain  and  America,  though  as 
wholly  unknown  to  the  Contuaental  Protestants  as  to  the  old 
unreformed  Church. 

In  later  times  this  idea  has  been  variously  modified.  Some, 
acting  up  to  the  commandment  in  strictness,  consistently  keep 
holy  the  seventh  day  of  the  week.  Many  adopt  the  distinc- 
tion of  the  Jewish^  Sabbath,  though  we  can  find  but  one  Sab- 
bath mentioned  in  the  Bible,  or  speak  of  the  Christian  Sab- 
bath,—  an  institution  wholly  without  warrant  in  the  Christian 
Scriptures.  Some  turn  away  from  all  such  distinctions,  as 
mere  questions  of  words  and  names.  It  is  indeed  wholly  un- 
important by  what  name  we  choose  to  designate  anything; 
but  it  is  important  tliat  we  are  not  misled  by  the  nctme  to  mw- 
take  the  thing. 

It  is,  however,  a  tenet  nowhere  inculcated  in  the  authorized 
formuhiries  of  the  Church  of  England.    Th^"  Decalogue  in- 

•  Qmm.  on  6W.  Iv.  8  -  11.  t  h^^'t.,  II.  c.  8,  f  28-34. 

I  Reply  to  Sir  T.  More.    See  Morer  on  Lonfi  day,  216. 


THE   LAW  AND    THE   GOSPEL.  59 

troduced  into  the  Communion  Service  is  of  course  to  be  fairly 
interpreted  by  the  Catechism ;  where  the  explanation  of  the 
fourth  commandment  is  simply,  "  to  serve  God  truly  all  the 
days  of  my  life,"  and  that  such  a  continual  service  is  the  only 
Christian  Sabbath  accords  with  the  ideas  of  the  Fathers 
before  referred  to. 

It  is  true,  among  the  divines  of  most  approved  reputation 
in  the  English  Church  there  has  been  all  along  a  division  of 
opinion  on  the  subject,  not  unmixed  probably  with  the  contin- 
ued struggle  between  the  Puritanizing  and  the  Catholicizing 
extremes  of  the  Reformation.  They  nearly  all,  however, 
even  those  most  opposed  to  the  Puritanical  views,  more  or 
less  seem  intent  rather  on  endeavoring  to  moderate  between 
opposing  opinions  and  attempting  a  middle  path  of  compro- 
mise, than  on  grasping  firmly  the  broad  principle  and  main- 
taining a  clear  consistency  in  their  own  views. 

With  many  the  plea  of  utility  prevails :  they  allege  that 
the  restraints  of  the  Law  are  still  requisite  for  the  many : 
that  "  a  preparatory  discipline  is  as  needful  now  as  former- 
ly";  *  that  the  terrors  of  the  Law  are  necessary  to  prepare 
men  for  the  mercies  of  the  Gospel.  Yet  in  the  case  of  a 
divine  appointment,  what  right  have  we  to  model  its  applica- 
tion according  to  our  ideas  of  the  necessity  of  the  case,  or  our 
conceptions  of  utility  f  Again,  it  is  often  elaborately  argued, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  such  or  such  institutions  are  in  their 
nature  ceremonial,  or  would  be  burdensome  or  impracticable 
for  general  adoption,  and  on  that  account  are  to  be  believed 
not  generally  obligatory. 

But  the  real  question  is.  Supposing  they  were  not  so,  were 
they  intended  to  apply  to  us  ?  Li  a  question  of  divine  obli- 
gation it  is  not  the  supposed  excellence  of  an  institution  which 
would  make  it  obligatory,  any  more  than  its  inconvenience  or 
inutility  would  annul  it  were  it  really  enjoined. 

Many  who  argue  in  support  of  the  abrogation  of  the  Law 
in  fact  take  unnecessary  trouble  to  prove  the   abolition  of 

*  See  Pusey  on  Rationalism,  I.  134 


60  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

obligations  of  which  they  have  not  shown  the  existence. 
Others,  contending  for  the  repeal  of  some  parts  of  the  Law, 
labor  to  defend  the  exceptions  before  they  have  established 
the  rule.  The  onus  probandi  lies  on  those  who  would  im- 
pose the  obligation,  not  on  those  who  contend  that  it  never 
existed. 

It  might  be  thought  that  the  great  natural  principles  of 
right  and  wrong  evinced  by  reason  would  be  too  plain  to 
admit  of  misapprehension  or  question.  Yet  when  the  refer- 
ence is  made  to  such  principles  of  moral  sense  implanted  in 
our  nature,  there  are  many  who  object  to  such  a  view  of 
moral  obligation  as  carnal  and  unevangelical. 

It  is,  however,  on  all  hands  admitted,  that  when  we  turn  to 
the  pages  of  the  New  Testament,  in  point  of  fax^t  all  duties 
which  can  come  under  the  denomination  of  moral,  on  any 
theory,  are  distinctly  included  and  laid  down  even  in  literal 
precepts,  (though  certainly  nowhere  exhibited  in  any  one 
code  or  summary,)  but,  much  more,  implied  and  involved  in 
the  whole  spirit  and  tenor  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ  and  the 
Apostles.  This  then  to  all  parties  may  suffice  to  furnish  a 
simple  unassailable  basis  of  Christian  moral  obligation. 

It  is  no  doubt  true  also  that  some  of  the  same  moral  duties 
(though  by  no  means  all  of  them)  were  enjoined  in  particular 
precepts  of  the  Mosaic  Law  and  the  prophetical  books. 

But  those  who  receive  the  Gospel  simply  as  the  universal 
revelation  of  God's  will  will  surely  acknowledge  the  obliga- 
tion of  those  duties,  not  because  they  may  be  found  prescribed 
in  the  Old  Testament,  but  because  they  form  part  of  the  spirit 
and  principles  of  the  New. 

On  any  intelligible  view  of  the  principles  of  moral  obliga* 
tion,  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  a  precept  to  consecrate  any  por- 
tion of  time  is  in  its  nature  a  positive,  not  a  moral  injunction : 
that  on  no  moral  grounds  can  we  regard  one  day  as  more 
sacred  than  another ;  and  practical  reasons  for  devoting  set 
portions  of  time  to  religious  purposes  cannot  apply  to  one 
seventli  more  tlian  to  any  other  jwrtion  of  time.  If  so,  just  in 
the  same  way  it  might  be  argued,  for  example,  cleanliness  is  a 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  61 

virtue ;  hence  the  ablutions  and  purifications  of  the  Law  are 
moral  precepts  perpetually  binding. 

But  though  there  is  no  foundation  for  Sabbatism  in  natural 
morality,  yet  there  is  a  deep-seated  one  in  natural  formalism. 
No  moral  or  rehgious  benefits,  however,  can  justify  a  corrup- 
tion of  Christianity  or  the  encouragement  of  superstition. 

The  plea  of  civil  and  social  benefits  derivable  from  such 
observances  has  been  the  favorite  argument  with  many  who 
take  up  the  question  rather  on  the  ground  of  external  policy 
than  of  religious  truth,  —  and  especially  as  maintaining  a  con- 
venient hold  on  the  minds  of  the  multitude,  which  they  are 
desirous  to  secure  even  by  legislative  coercion.  In  a  word, 
their  Sabbatism  is  precisely  that  of  the  legislators  and  philos- 
ophers of  the  heathen  world,  who  by  the  very  same  arguments 
upheld  their  religious  festivals.*  Nor  can  we  fail  to  trace 
precisely  the  same  spirit  in  the  Jewish  Rabbis,  who,  well 
knowing  human  nature,  avowed  the  maxim,  doubtless  most 
acceptable  to  the  many,  —  "  The  Sabbath  weigheth  against 
all  the  commandments."  f 

Such,  however,  are  the  views  which,  in  one  form  or  an- 
other, have  become  very  general  among  our  countrymen,  who, 
under  the  narrow  prepossessions  of  an  exclusive  education,  (in 
which  the  Decalogue,  in  its  letter,  wholly  unexplained,  too 
often  forms  the  main  religious  instruction,)  are  commonly 
surprised  and  scandalized  when  they  find  in  other  Christian 
countries  those  tenets  wholly  unknown  in  which  they  have 
been  kept  studiously  blindfolded  by  religious  teachers,  many 
of  whom,  too,  know  better. 

Increased  intercourse  and  information,  however,  it  may  be 
hoped,  is  now  opening  the  eyes  of  many  to  the  peculiarly 

*  Thus  Seneca  speaks  of  the  practice  of  all  legislators  to  enjoin  pub- 
lic festivals  and  periods  of  relaxation  as  essential  to  the  good  of  the 
state  [De  Tranq.  Anim.) ;  and  Plato,  carrying  the  matter  higher,  says, 
"  The  gods,  pitying  mankind  born  to  painful  labor,  appointed  for  an 
ease  and  cessation  of  their  toils  the  recurrence  of  festival  seasons  ob- 
served to  the  gods."     {De  Leg.,  II.  787.) 

t  Midrash,  in  Exod.  xx  vi. 
6 


62  THE   LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL. 

national  prejudices  on  these  subjects ;  an  object  to  which 
nothing  seems  more  likely  to  contribute  than  attention  to  the 
simple  matter-of-fact  view  of  the  whole  question  here  at- 
tempted to  be  followed  up. 

Conclusion. 

To  recapitulate  and  conclude  :  —  "  God  spake  in  times  past 
in  sundry  portions  and  under  divers  forms  to  the  fathers " ; 
but  "  in  these^  last  days  unto  us  by  his  Son/'  All  the  Divine 
declarations  are  to  be  understood  according  to  their  manifest 
purpose,  and  with  reference  to  the  parties  addressed.  It  may 
be  true,  that  "  God  spake  these  words,"  but  not  therefore  to 
us.  Our  concern  is  not  with  what  was  at  firsts  but  with  what 
has  been  revealed  "  in  these  last  days."  The  Old  Testament 
is  to  us  nothing,  except  as  applied  in  the  New.  Temporary 
dispensations  have  passed  away^  and  with  national  dispensa- 
tions we  have  no  concern.  We  Gentiles  are  "  not  under  the 
Law,"  not  because  it  has  been  abolished^  but  because  to  us  it 
never  existed.  The  New  Testament  does  not  bring  us  under 
the  Old.  If  we  were  not  "  under  grace,"  we  should  only  be 
under  nature,  not  the  Law. 

Meats  and  days,  ordinances  and  Sabbaths,  if  primeval, 
have  ceased ;  if  Judaical,  are  national.  To  introduce  such 
observances  under  the  plea  of  utility  and  policy,  is  to  disparage 
Divine  authority.  Expediency  is  not  to  be  set  up  against 
truth.  Our  sole  rule  must  be  that  of  Gospel  truth  :  to  adopt 
any  other  is  to  pretend  to  know  more  of  the  will  of  God  than 
is  revealed  in  the  Gospel.  Christianity  recognizes  the  uni- 
versal and  eternal  moral  law ;  but  exalts  and  enlarges  it,  and 
sets  it  on  a  firmer  basis.  Distinctions  of  days  have  no  con- 
nection with  morality  ;  under  the  Gospel  no  one  day  is  more 
holy  than  another ;  its  service  is  a  perpetual  one,  ^  in  spirit 
and  in  truth." 

Christianity  is  not  the  religion  of  Moses,  nor  of  Abraham, 
nor  of  Adam,  but  something  far  better.  To  mix  it  witli  ex- 
traneous additionc,  even  from  those  dispensations,  is  to  pervert 
its  very  nature  and  object,  which  is  to  supersede  and  crown 


THE    LAW   AND    THE    GOSPEL.  63 

them  all ;  —  to  impair  its  efficacy  by  ingrafting  on  it  an  un- 
evangelic  formalism  most  alien  from  its  spirit ;  —  to  lay  it 
open  to  the  attacks  of  the  objector,  and  give  the  strongest 
handle  to  scepticism.  And  to  instil  such  principles  in  educa- 
tion in  these  times  is  but  to  lay  the  train  for  a  fearful  reac- 
tion ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  it  ought  to  be  the  more  peculiar 
endeavor  of  every  sincere  and  enhghtened  advocate  of  the 
Gospel  to  vindicate  its  spiritual  and  rational  character,  and 
the  practical  simplicity  of  its  principles,  —  at  once  the  source 
of  its  power,  the  test  of  its  truth,  and  the  ground  of  its  sta- 
bility and  perpetuity. 


THE   DOCTEINE   OF  INSPIRATION 

Bt  Dr.  F.  a.  D.  THOLUCK, 

PROFESSOR  OF  THEOLOGT  IN  THB  UNIYBBSITT  OF  HALLS.* 


Part  I.  —  HISTORICAL. 

Sect.  1.  —  Introductory.  —  The  Reformers  and  their  Imme* 
diate  Successors. —  Origin,  in  Modem  TimeSj  of  the  rigid 
View  of  Inspiration. 

The  older  form  of  doctrine  concerning  the  Inspiration  of 
the  Scriptures  furnished  Rationalism  with  one  of  its  chief 
points  of  attack  upon  the  teaching  of  the  Church.  This  older 
doctrine,  however,  does  not  reach  so  far  back  as  the  age  of  the 
Reformation.  As  regards  the  great  witnesses  of  the  Refor- 
mation, so  mightily  had  the  word  of  God  in  the  Scriptures 
made  good  to  their  hearts  the  "  demonstration  of  the  spirit 
and  of  power"  (1  Cor.  ii.  4)  belonging  to  it,  that,  without 
feeling  any  necessity  to  account  in  detail  for  those  constituent 
parts  of  Scripture,  in  which  that  word  of  God  was  not  con- 
tained, they  bore  this  testimony  as  with  one  voice,  —  "  Here 
is  the  word  of  God,  the  standard  of  all  Truth." 

But,  in  proportion  as  matters  drew  near  to  the  close  of  that 
first  Protestant  period,  in  which,  through  the  testimony  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  the  soul  and  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  Scriptures 
reciprocally,  the  direct  evidence  of  Evangelical  truth  was  sus- 

*  Translated  from  the  German  for  Kitto's  Journal  of  Sacred  Literature. 
6* 


66  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

tained  in  life ;  and  in  proportion  as  controversy,  sharpened  by 
Jesuitism,  made  the  Protestant  party  sensible  of  the  necessity 
of  an  externally  fortified  ground  of  combat ;  in  that  same 
proportion  did  Protestantism  seek,  by  the  exaltation  of  the 
outwardly  authoritative  character  of  the  sacred  writings,  to 
recover  that  infallible  authority  which  it  had  lost  through  its 
rejection  of  inspired  councils  and  the  infallible  authority  of 
the  Pope. 

In  this  manner  arose,  amongst  both  Lutheran  and  Reformed 
divines,  not  earlier,  strictly  speaking,  than  the  seventeenth 
century,  those  sentiments  concerning  the  inspiration  of  Holy 
Scripture  which  regarded  it  as  the  infallible  production  of  the 
Divine  Spirit,  not  merely  in  its  religious,  but  in  its  entire  con- 
tents ;  and  not  merely  in  its  contents,  but  also  in  its  very  form. 
In  both  Protestant  churches  (the  Lutheran  and  the  Reformed) 
it  was  taught  that  the  writers  of  the  Bible  were  to  be  regard- 
ed as  writing-pens  wielded  by  the  hand  of  God,*  and  amanu- 
enses of  the  Holy  Spirit  who  dictated,!  whom  God  uses  as 
the  flute-player  does  his  instrument ;  J  not  only  the  senses 
but  also  the  words,  and  not  these  merely,  but  even  tlie  letters, 
and  the  vowel-joints,  wliich  in  Hebrew  are  written  under  the 
consonants,  —  according  to  some,  the  very  puncttiation^  —  pro- 
ceeded from  the  Spirit  of  God.§  It  is  true,  that  there  are 
modes  of  conception  and  expression,  and  individual  diversities, 
apparent  in  the  sacred  authors ;  but  these  were  to  be  regarded 
only  as  the  effect  of  the  Holy  Spirit's  adaptation.  ||  It  might 
be  further  submitted  as  a  question,  whether  the  Holy  Spirit 
descended  to  grammatical  errors,  barbarisms,  and  solecisms. 
By  Musaeus  and  some  others,  indeed,  tliis  was  asserted  to  be 
the  case  :  but  by  the  greater  number  such  an  assumption  was 
considered  blasphemous ;  and  by  Quenstedt  and  others  the 
difficulty  was  so  far  disposed  of,  that  what  to  the  Greeks  was 

*  "  Del  calami."  t  "  Spiritus  snncti  dictantis  notaril." 

X  Quenstedt,  Theol.  Didact.  Polem.,  P.  I.  55.   Heidegger,  Corp.  Theol 
n.  34. 

^  Caiovius,  I.  484.    Afaresius,  Syntag.  Theol.,  p.  8. 
II  Quenstedt,  Theol.  Didact.  Polem.«  P.  I.  76. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIEATION.  67 

a  barbarism,  was  not  necessarily  such  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Church.*  By  some,  again,  the  thorough  purity  and  classical 
character  of  the  New  Testament  language  were  asserted.t 

With  greater  or  less  consistency  and  strictness,  this  opinion 
is  still  adhered  to  by  the  Kirk  of  Scotland  [and  the  Free 
Church].  It  has  also  found  in  Professor  Gaussen,J  of  the 
EvangeUcal  Academy  at  Geneva,  a  devout  and  rhetorical 
defender,  causing  even  a  violent  breach  in  the  bosom  of  that 
institution.  In  Germany  it  has  been  advocated  by  Rudelbach, 
whose  treatise,  however,  in  the  Lutherischen  Zeitschrift  von 
Eudelhach  und  Guericke,  from  1840  till  the  present  time 
(1850),  has  been  occupied  solely  with  the  historical  part  of 
the  question.  But  among  the  great  majority  of  German 
theologians,  the  defenders,  too,  of  an  orthodox  theology,  in 
consequence  of  the  historico-critical  biblical  investigations  in- 
troduced since  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  the  rigidity  of 
the  system  which  prevailed  during  the  seventeenth  century 
has  been  more  and  more  relaxed ;  and  the  Protestant  theology 
of  foreign  countries  also,  such  as  that  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land and  of  the  Dissenters,  as  also  that  of  the  French,  Dan- 
ish, and  Swedish  churches,  has  given  to  the  dogma  of  inspira- 
tion a  more  liberal  construction. 

In  the  succeeding  historical  part  of  this  Essay,  which,  by 
the  way,  makes  no  pretension  to  scientific  fulness  and  com- 
pleteness, it  shall  be  shown,  first  of  all,  that  the  more  liberal 
aspect  referred  to  has  no  unfriendly  bearing  upon  Evangelical 
doctrine.  So  far  from  its  being  open  to  the  suspicion  of  being 
the  fruit  of  modern  Rationalism,  it  has,  on  the  contrary,  found 
advocates  in  all  ages  of  the  Church,  and,  at  least,  was  involun- 
tarily developed  as  soon  as  a  person  reflected  upon  the  pecu- 
liarities of  the  text.  By  the  Lutheran  historian  of  the  doc- 
trine, mentioned  above,§  witnesses  of  this  kind  are  for  the 
most  part  passed  over  in  silence,  especially  those  in  the  early 

*  Ibid.,  p.  84. 

1  H.  Stephens,  Seh.  Pfochen,  Hollaz,  Georgi,  and  others. 

\  In  his  work,  "  La  Theopneusti6,  ou  I'lnspiration  Pleniere,"  &c. 

i  Rudelbach. 


68  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   DTSPIEATION. 

Church.  The  present  Essay  will  supply  this  defect.  But 
although  this  be  so,  not  only  is  it  impossible  on  this  account 
to  consider  it  un-  Christian,  it  cannot  even  for  once  be  shown 
to  be  un-Luiheran.  Of  course,  we  say  this  on  the  assumption 
that  we  do  not  regard  the  rigorous  propositions  of  Lutheran 
divines,  any  more  than  the  more  liberal  individual  expressions 
of  Luther,  as  constituting  the  measure  of  what  is  Lutheran, 
but  confine  our  attention  solely  to  the  Lutheran  confessions 
of  faith.  For,  while  the  more  rigid  definitions  of  inspiration 
above  alluded  to  are  omitted  in  some  Reformed  symbols,*  for 
instance,  in  the  Formula  Consensus,  the  Lutheran  symbols 
contain  no  express  declaration  whatever  upon  the  inspiration 
of  the  Scriptures.  The  expressions  which  have  a  bearing 
upon  the  question  in  the  symbolical  books  are  found  collected 
by  Kollner  in  his  Symbolic  der  Lutherischen  Kirche,  p.  612. 

Sect.  2.  —  The  Inspired  Word  distinguished. 

The  word  inspiration,^  borrowed  from  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  char- 
acterizes the  contents  of  the  sacred  writings  as  having  pro- 
ceeded from  the  breath,  the  spirit  of  God.  In  what  mon- 
ner  arises  in  the  minds  of  the  readers  of  a  theopneustic  I 
writing  this  conviction  of  its  origin  ?  We  answer :  It  arises 
from  the  certainty  that  the  ejects  produced  by  the  contents  of 
the  writing  upon  the  intellect,  the  will,  and  the  feeling,  are 
capable  of  leading  to  a  religiously  moral  self-sat isfjvction,  — 
as  that  passage  expresses  it,  they  are  able  "  to  make  the  man 
of  God  perfect'*  Now  the  truth  is,  that,  properly  speaking, 
the  Scripture  is  for  those  contents  —  for  the  divinely  cfllca- 
cious  facts,  expressions,  and  truths  —  only  the  vessel  which 
contains  them  ;  but  the  immediate  consciousness,  by  metony- 
my, transfers  what  may  be  predicated  of  the  contents,  to  the 
containing  vessel  itself.  A  clear  illustration  of  this  is  supplied 
by  Gal.  iii.  8 :  "  And  the  Scripture,  foreseeing  that  God  would 
justify  the  heathen  by  faith,  preached  before  the  Gospel  unto 

♦  Standards,  or  doctrinal  creeds.  —  Ta. 
t  "  Ein^istunR  "  «-  inspiriting. 
\  Divinely  inspired. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  69 

Abraham,  saying,  In  thee  shall  all  nations  be  blessed."  Here 
the  gift  of  prophecy  is  ascribed  to  the  writing  itself,  because 
it  contains  predictions.  Those  parts  of  the  contents  of  Scrip- 
ture, however,  from  which  the  effects  above  referred  to  do  not 
directly  flow,  such  as  a  genealogical  table,  a  list  of  encamp- 
ments, and  the  like,  stand  more  or  less  in  indirect  connection, 
at  least,  with  the  rest. 

As  long,  then,  as  the  immediate  religious  consciousness  has 
not  developed  itself  into  reflection,  it  extends  the  idea  of  in- 
spiration to  these  portions  of  Scripture  also,  although  not 
without  the  slumbering  acknowledgment  that  the  Divine 
breath,  or  spirit,  does  not  exercise  an  equal  control  through- 
out the  whole :  in  proportion  as  it  is  external  and  incidental 
is  it  less  in  degree.  That  this  acknowledgment  does  slumber 
in  the  background  is  evident  as  soon  as  reflection  is  directed 
to  such  incidental  externalities.  Let  us  suppose  it  to  be 
proved  to  the  simple-minded  Christian  that  Paul,  in  1  Cor.  x. 
8,  where  he  writes,  "  There  fell  in  one  day  twenty-three  thou- 
sand," must  have  committed  an  error  of  memory,  inasmuch  as 
in  the  Old  Testament  narrative  recording  the  fact,*  the  num- 
ber twenty-four  thousand  is  given  ;  or,  that  Matthew  commits 
an  error  of  memory  when  he  ascribes  the  passage  concerning 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  Jeremiah,t  while  it  really  occurs 
in  Zechariah  xi.  12,  13.  What  condition  would  he  be  in? 
At  first,  doubtless,  he  would  confidently  declare  that  no  error 
of  memory  could  exist,  —  that  there  might  be  some  other 
solution  of  the  difficulty ;  although  to  all  learned  men  such 
solution  were  unknown.  But  suppose  that  upon  this  it  should 
be  explained  to  him  that  Paul,  in  1  Cor.  i.  16,  while  writing 
an  inspired  Epistle,  does  really  not  lay  claim  to  infallibility  of 
memory  in  such  details.^  What  would  be  his  reply  to  this  ? 
From  his  own  religious  necessity,  he  would  have  no  objection 
whatever  to  offer  to  such  (supposed)  failure  of  memory  ;  only 
he  would  still  be  unable  to  suppress  the  fear,  that,  by  conced- 


*  Numb.  XXV.  9.  t  Matt  xxvii.  9,  10. 

X  "And  I  baptized  also  the  household  of  Stephanas  :  besides,  Ihuvo 
not  that  I  baptized  any  other," 


70  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

ing  failure  of  memory  in  one  place,  other  and  more  material 
truths  of  Scripture  might  lose  their  certainty  and  infallibility. 
If  one  could  only  set  him  at  rest  on  this  matter,  —  by  making 
it  manifest  to  his  mind  that  the  evidence  of  no  material  truth 
would  be  thereby  impaired,  —  he  would  doubtless  willingly 
abandon  the  accuracy  of  those  statements,  as  a  thing  not 
essential  to  his  religious  wants. 

Sect.  3.  —  The  Fathers. 

"With  this  kind  of  unreflecting  reverence  for  the  Sacred 
Scriptures  as  records  proceeding  from  the  Spirit  of  (rod,  and 
pervaded  by  him,  we  find  the  ancient  Church  Fathers  also 
filled.  We  discover  amongst  them  no  searching  exposition^ 
no  elaborated  theory.  Nay,  what  is  altogether  remarkable,  we 
do  not  find  these  things  even  during  the  lapse  of  succeeding 
centuries,  until,  after  the  Reformation,  we  reach  the  doctrinal 
theology  of  the  Lutheran  and  Reformed  churches.  Men  were 
satisfied  with  general  and  occasional  expressions.  Where 
the  Church  Fathers,  without  reflecting  more  precisely  upon 
details,  give  us  the  sum  total  of  their  impression  conceniing 
the  Holy  Scripture,  they  acknowledge  their  belief  in  its  in- 
spiration, and  designate  it  by  the  names,  "  Divine  writing," 
"  divinely  inspired  writing,"  "  Instrumentum  divinum,"  "  Coo- 
lestes  Literae,"  &c. 

Justin  Martyr,  about  the  middle  of  the  second  century, 
says :  "  Such  exalted  things  could  not  be  known  by  human 
reflection,  but  only  by  means  of  a  heavenly  gifl  which  de- 
scended upon  holy  men.  These  men  needed  no  artificial 
eloquence,  —  no  skilful  art  of  disputation :  but  they  merely 
yielded  up  their  pure  souls  to  the  inward  operation  of  the 
Divine  Spirit.  As  a  bow  upon  a  lyre  evokes  tones  of  music, 
so  the  Deity  used  these  pious  men  as  instruments  to  make 
known  to  us  heavenly  things."  * 

**  The  Holy  Scriptures,"  says  Origen,  in  the  third  century. 

*  Cohort,  ad  Qentes,  c  8.  [For  hin  views  on  the  inspiraticn  of  dj« 
Prophets,  see  hU  Apol.  L,  56,  57,  ed.  Paris,  1815.  — Tr.J 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  71 

"  are  penetrated  throughout  as  by  the  wind  by  the  fubiess  of 
the  Spirit ;  and  there  is  nothing  therein,  either  in  the  Prophets, 
or  the  Law,  or  the  Gospels,  or  in  the  Apostolical  writings, 
which  does  not  proceed  from  the  Divine  Majesty."  * 

Eusebius,  in  the  fourth  century,  commenting  on  Psalm 
xxxiii.  34,  declares :  "  I  hold  it  to  be  presumptuous  for  any 
man  to  say  that  the  Holy  Scripture  has  erred."  t 

Augustine,  also,  in  the  fourth  century,  declares  it  as  his 
"most  settled  belief,  that  none  of  the  writers  of  the  books 
called  canonical  committed  any  error  whatever  in  writing."  J 

At  the  same  time,  however,  they  may  have  had  in  view 
the  sense  of  Scripture  more  than  the  words ;  for  so  carelessly 
were  verbal  citations  then  made,  that  the  writers  who  flour- 
ished up  to  the  end  of  the  second  century  quote  the  language 
of  Scripture  sometimes  from  oral  traditions,  but  for  the  most 
part  merely  from  memory,  and,  at  times,  with  the  greatest 
deviations  from  our  text.  Besides,  the  Old  Testament  was 
known  to  them  only  in  the  Alexandrian  Greek  translation 
(Septuagint),  and  they  must,  therefore,  if  they  claimed  for 
the  Book  a  literal  inspiration,  extend  it,  without  any  warrant 
for  so  doing,  to  that  translation  also.  This  Justin  Martyr 
does ;  but  none  else. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  that  many 
of  their  expressions  give  far  more  explicit  proof  that  their 
general  statements  concerning  the  divinity  of  the  sacred 
writings  are  not  to  be  understood  absolutely.     At  all  events, 

*  In  Jerem.  Horn.  II.  ^ 

t  Also  his  Eccles.  Hist.,  Lib.  III.  cap.  24. 

X  "  Ego  solis  eis  scripturarura  libris,  qui  jam  canonici  appellantur, 
didici  hunc  timorem  honoremque  deferre,  ut  nullum  eorum  auctorem 
scribendo  aliquid  errasse  firmissime  credam." 

[At  the  same  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  passages  are  also  to  be  met 
with,  especially  in  Augustine  and  Jerome,  from  which  it  is  evident  that 
there  were  occasions  on  which  they  were  compelled  to  modify  their  views. 
Thus  Augustine  accounts  for  the  variations  found  in  many  parts  of  the 
Gospels  on  the  principle  that  each  writer  exercised  freely  his  mental 
faculties,  and  presented  his  own  peculiar  aspect  of  facts  and  circum- 
stances, &c.    Henderson,  Div.  Insp.,  2d  ed.,  p.  50.  —  Tr.] 


72  THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION. 

they  did  not  refer  to  it  in  the  sense  in  which  it  has  been 
taught  by  the  post-Reformation  divines. 

We  begin  with  a  man  who  was  an  immediate  disciple  of 
our  Lord,  —  the  Presbyter  John.  Far  from  entertaining  the 
idea  that  the  contents  of  their  writings  were  supernaturally 
delivered  to  the  Apostles,  —  and,  by  the  way,  the  passage  in 
Luke  i.  1  -  3  would  not  agree  with  such  a  supposition,  —  he 
relates  concerning  the  composition  of  the  Gospel  of  Mark 
as  follows :  "  He  (Mark)  was  the  interpreter  of  Peter,  and 
carefully  recorded  all  that  he  retained  from  him  in  his 
memory,  without  binding  himself  to  the  chronological  order 
of  the  words  and  deeds  of  Christ."  * 

In  like  manner,  Irenaeus,  about  the  end  of  the  second  cen- 
tury, cannot  have  held  the  opinion  that  the  contents  of  Paul's 
writings  had  been  imparted  to  hun  while  in  a  purely  passive 
state.  A  treatise  was  composed  by  this  Father  "  On  the  Pe- 
culiarities of  the  Pauline  Style,"  in  which  he  acknowledges 
the  unsyntactic  construction  of  the  Apostle,  and  accounts  for 
it  on  the  ground  of  "  the  rapidity  of  his  utterances,  and  the 
impulsiveness  of  spirit  which  distinguished  him."  f  Such 
an  influence  of  his  personal  peculiarity  upon  his  expres- 
sions would  be  incompatible  with  the  assumption  that  the 
Apostle  at  the  time  of  inspii*ation  was  in  a  purely  passive 
state. 

Origen,  although  in  other  respects  an  advocate  of  the  most 
rigid  theory  of  inspiration,  boldly  makes  a  distinction  between 
the  words  of  the  Lord  and  those  of  the  Apostles.  He  says : 
"  Those  who  are  truly  wise  in  Christ  are  of  opinion  that  the 
Apostolical  writings  have  indeed  been  disposed  wisely,  credi- 
bly, and  with  reverence  for  God ;  but,  nevertheless,  not  to  be 
compared  with  such  declarations  as  *Thus  saith  the  Lortl 
Almighty.'  And  on  this  account  we  must  consider  whether, 
when  Paul  says,  *  AU  Scripture  is  inspired  by  God  and  use- 

♦  Eu9cl)lu8,  Eccle«.  Hist ,  III.  89. 

t  "  Velocitas  scrmonom  saomm,  et  propter  impetum,  qui  in  ipso  est» 
Bpiritds." 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  73 

fid' *  he  includes  his  own  Epistles,  and  whether  he  would 
exclude  some  parts  of  them,  buch  as  those  where  it  is  said, 

*  That  which  I  speak,  I  speak  not  after  the  Lord'  ;\  and  this, 

*  As  I  teach  everywhere  in  every  church '  ;  \  and  again,  '  At 
Antioch,  at  Iconium,  at  Ln/stra,  what  persecutions  I  endured' ;  § 
and  other  like  things  which  here  and  there  he  has  written  of 
his  own  knowledge,  and  bj  authority  {tear  e^ovaiav),  but  yet 
which  have  not  flowed  forth  purely  and  entirely  from  divine 
inspiration."  ||  He  declares,  also,  that,  according  to  the  his- 
torical sense,  an  insoluble  contradiction  exists  between  John 
and  Matthew  in  relation  to  our  Lord's  last  Passover  journey. 
"  I  believe  it  to  be  impossible,"  he  says,  "  for  those  who  upon 
this  subject  direct  attention  merely  to  the  external  history,  to 
prove  that  this  apparent  contradiction  is  capable  of  being 
harmonized."  % 

Augustine,  who,  on  the  one  hand,  is  unwilling  that  it  should 
be  said  that  Christ  wrote  nothing,  since  the  Apostles  were 
only  his  hands  in  writing,**  declares,  nevertheless,  on  the 
other  hand,tt  that  each  of  the  Evangelists  has  written,  some- 
times more  and  sometimes  less  fully,  as  each  remembered, 
and  as  each  had  it  in  his  heart :  JJ  and  asserts  §§  that  the  words 


t 


*  Dr.  Tholuck's  rendering:  "Alle  Schrift  ist  von  Gott  eingegeben 
nnd  nutzlich."  Gr.  Hacra  ypa(f)fj  6e6irv€V(rTos  kol  w^eXi/xoy,  k.  t.  X. 
2  Tim.  iii.  16.  — Tr. 

t  2  Cor.  xi.  17.    Also  comp.  1  Cor.  vii.  40. 

}  1  Cor.  iv.  17.  4  2  Tim.  iii.  11. 

II  In  Johann.,  Tom.  I.  p.  4,  ed.  1668. 

IF  Ibid.,  Tom.  I.  p.  183.  — Tr. 

**  De  Consensu  Evangel.,  I.  35.  ft  Ibid.,  11.  12. 

tl  "  Ut  quisque  meminerat,  et  ut  cuique  cordi  erat." 

§§  De  Consensu  Evangel.,  II.  28.  "  Quae  cum  ita  sint  per  hujusmodi 
evangelistarum  locutiones  vai-ias,  sed  non  contrarias,  rem  plane  utilissi- 
mam  discimus  et  pernecessariam,  nihil  in  cujusque  verbis  nos  debere  in- 
spicere,  nisi  voluntatcm,  cui  debent  verba  servire,  nee  mentiri  quemquam, 
si  aliis  verbis  dixerit  quid  ille  voluerit,  cujus  verba  non  dicit :  ne  miseri 
aucupes  vocum  apicibus  quodammodo  literarum  putent  ligandara  esse 
veritatem,  cum  utique  non  in  verbis  tantum,  sed  etiam  in  caiteris  omni- 
bus signis  animorum  non  sit  nisi  ipse  animus  inquirendus." 
7 


74  THE   DOCTRINE   OP  INSPIRATION. 

dt  the  Evangelists  might  be  ever  so  contradictory,  provided 
odIj  that  their  thoughu  were  the  same. 

Jerome,  who  was  an  accomplished  grammarian,  so  fully 
recognized  the  diversities  incident  to  the  style  of  the  Apostles, 
that  he  often  imputes  solecisms  to  their  language,  and  writes 
of  Paul  that  he  had  used  "  sermone  trivti"  street  language.* 

The  great  bishop  and  expositor,  Chrysostom,  who  declared 
such  confidence  in  the  Scripture  as  to  say  that  all  the  contra- 
dictions (enantiophonien)  found  there  are,  after  all,  only  ap- 
parent  contradictions  (enantiophanien),t  has  nevertheless  taken 
the  liberty  to  remark  upon  the  words  of  Paul  in  Acts  xxvi.  6 : 
**  He  speaks  humanly,  and  does  not  throughout  enjoy  grace, 
but  it  is  permitted  him  even  to  intermix  his  own  materials."  X 

We  see,  then,  that  even  amongst  the  ancient  Church  Fa- 
thers, although  they  had  a  general  impression  of  the  divinely 
inspired  character  of  Scripture,  the  opinion  that  its  language 
was  human  and  imperfect  was  held  to  be  unmistakable  ;  that 
verbal  contradictions,  nay,  contradictions  even  in  matters  of 
fact,  were  ascribed  to  it  without  hesitation  ;  and  that  the  au- 
thority of  the  Apostolictd  writings  was  regarded  as  secondary 
to  those  which  were  said  to  have  proceeded  immediately  from 
God  himself. 

Sect.  4.  —  VUwt  of  TnMpiration  \n  the  Raman   Cathoitc 
CTturch,  —  The  Schohstic*. 

The  Catholic  Church,  since  the  time  when  the  dogma  of 
the  infallibility  of  ecclesiastical  tradition  as  the  interpreter  of 

*  Ad.  Fol.,  8.  I.  "Jerome,  when  commenting  on  the  jmsungo  Gal. 
V.  IS,  finds  no  difflcnltj  in  supposinf;  that  St.  Paul,  in  the  choice  of  an 
•zpreMion,  is  {{ovcrncd  by  the  vehemence  of  an  emotion,  arising,  ho\r- 
svsr,  oat  of  a  pore  tompor  of  heart.  '  Nee  mirum  esse,  si  Apostolus,  nt 
homo,  et  adhuo  vasailo  daafiu  Infirroo,  ridcnsque  aliaro  legem  in  cor 
pore  ttto  captivantem  m  H  doosoiMB  In  leg«  peccati,  semel  fucrit  hoc 
loqoatos,  in  quotl  freqaeBMr  ssoeiot  viroa  cad««  panpidmos.' "  Neaa- 
der,  Choreh  llist.,  IV.  p.  IS,  ad.  CUrk.^Tm. 

t  Opera,  Tom.  VII.  p.  5. 

t  Ibid.,  Tom.  X.  p.  9M.  *Ap^pmirl»mt  htaktymu  ml  ov  irovra;^ 
f^  X^P**^  diroXaMi,  iXXh  «U  wop  iavrov  r\  ovyx*P*trat  ttatfHptir. 


THE   DOCTKINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  75 

Holy  Scripture  was  developed,  must  still  less  have  felt  a 
desire  to  give  any  extension  to  the  doctrine  of  Inspiration. 
The  Scholastics,  when  they  treat  of  any  principle  of  theologi- 
cal science,  certainly  give  expression  to  the  idea  that  the 
latter  has  a  principle  different  from  philosophy,  —  the  revelatio 
laid  down  in  Holy  Scripture ;  but  into  the  question  concerning 
the  extent  of  its  inspiration,  they  do  not,  at  least  more  closely, 
enter.  Expressions  marked  by  liberaHty  transpire  even  dur- 
ing these  dark  times.  Thus  Bishop  Junihus,*  in  the  sixth 
century,  to  the  question,  "  How  is  the  authority  of  the  sacred 
books  to  be  considered  ? "  returns  the  answer,  "  Some  are 
of  perfect  authority,  some  of  partial  authority,  and  some  of 
none  at  all."  Amongst  the  second  class  (those  of  partial  au- 
thority) he  included  the  book  of  Job,  the  books  of  Chroni- 
cles, Ezra,  and  others ;  and  amongst  the  last  class  (those  of 
no  authority  whatever),  those  which  are  properly  Apocryphal. 

In  the  ninth  century,  Agobard,  Archbishop  of  Lyons,  writes : 
"  What  absurdity  will  follow  if  the  notion  is  maintained,  con- 
cerning the  Prophets  and  Apostles,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  in- 
spired them  not  only  with  the  sense  of  their  predictions,  and 
the  forms  or  arguments  of  their  phraseology,  but  also  that  he 
fashioned  in  their  lips  the  very  words  themselves  bodily  and 
outwardly."  f 

In  the  works  of  the  Greek  Catholic  expositor  Euthymius 
Zigabenus,  in  the  twelfth  century,  the  following  words  are 
found  upon  Matt.  xii.  8 :  "It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  one 
Evangelist  relates  this,  and  the  other  passes  by  that ;  for  they 
did  not  write  down  the  Gospels  immediately  from  the  lips  of 
Christ,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  a  perfect  impression  of  all  his 
words,  but  many  years  after  he  had  spoken.  And  since  they 
were  men,  they  were  liable  to  omit  many  things  through  for- 
getfulness.  This  will  explain  to  you  how  one  may  have  re- 
corded what  another  may  have  omitted.  Oftentimes  they  have 
made  large  omissions,  simply  for  the  sake  of  brevity ;  some- 
times because  they  thought  the  matter  to  be  unnecessary." 

*  De  Partibus  Div.  Legis,  1.8.  t  Adv.  Fredegisum,  c.  12. 


76  THE   DOCTRimE   OF   DfSPIRATlON. 

TIic  Scholastic  thpolojry  introduced  a  distinction  between 
what  directly^  and  what  indirectly^  l)elong3  to  faith  ;  a  distinc- 
tion which  is  pertinent  to  our  subject,  and  may  also  serve  as 
a  basis  for  a  theory  of  inspiration.  "Those  things  belong 
directly  to  faith,**  says  Tliomas  Aquinas,  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, "  which  to  us  are  pre-eminently  of  Divine  origin,  as, 
tliat  God  exists  in  a  Trinity  of  persons ;  and  to  hold  a  false 
opinion  concerning  these  is  the  very  cause  of  heresy.  On 
the  other  hand,  things  belonging  to  faith  indirectly ,  are  those 
from  which  followz  anything  contrary  to  faith,  as  if,  for  ex- 
ample, any  one  should  assert  that  Samuel  was  not  the  son 
of  Elkanah ;  for  from  this  it  would  follow  that  the  Scripture 
is  false.**  • 

From  the  interest  here  mentioned  there  arises  also,  amongst 
ourselves,  ever  afresh,  the  practical  need  of  an  unexception- 
able and  uniform  inspiration  of  the  Scripture.  •  How  this  need 
is  to  be  judged  of  will  be  the  subject  to  be  handled  in  our 
teoond  part.  Here  the  language  of  the  great  Church  Father 
just  quoted  (Aquinas),  may  only  serve  as  a  testimony  that 
the  religious  consciousness  in  man,  when  it  reflects  upon  itself, 
makct  a  distinction  between  the  several  parts  of  Scripture, 
agreeably  to  which  the  necessity  also  for  its  insj^iration  is  a 
ptediaie  or  an  immediate  necessity.  Besides,  the  Scholastics, 
in  contending  for  the  exclusion  of  all  error,  have  been  so  far 
fix>m  maintaining  strict  consistency,  that  we  find  at  least  in  Abe- 
lard  a  concession  of  individual  doctrinal  errors.  He  says  {^  Sic 
et  Non,**  ed.  Cousin,  p.  11):  "It  is  certain  that  the  Prophets 
themselves  were  at  times  destitute  of  prophetic  grace,  and 
that  in  their  official  rapacity  as  Prophets,  while  believing  that 
they  were  in  potseasion  of  the  tpirit  of  prophecy^  they  de- 
clared, by  their  own  apiriit  aome  things  that  were  faUaciout ; 
and  this  was  permitted  them  in  order  to  presene  their  hu- 
mility, —  in  other  words  ll»at  they  might  more  truly  know  the 
diiTerence  between  tliemsi'lves  as  persons  receiving  Divine 
and  M  relying  solely  upon  the  guidance  of  their 


•  BammaThsol.,  I  QB.aS,an.4.  (Ed.Aiitw  lft85.)~Ta. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  77 

own  spirit."  He  then  cites  the  instance  of  Peter,  who  on 
account  of  a  deviation  from  the  truth  had  been  so  severely 
censured  by  Paul,  and  adds :  "  What  wonder  is  it,  therefore, 
seeing  that  it  is  certain  that  even  Prophets  and  Apostles  were 
not  entirely  free  from  error,  if  amongst  so  great  a  number  of 
Church  Fathers  a  few  writings  appear  to  have  been  issued 
containing  mistakes." 

The  Catholic  Confession  of  the  Council  of  Trent  has  given 
no  more  direct  explanation  of  the  sense  in  which  the  Sacred 
Scripture  is  to  be  considered  as  divinely  inspired  than  the 
Lutheran  symbols.*  In  Sessio  IV.  the  canonical  writings 
are  mentioned,  and  it  is  there  only  incidentally  stated  that 
the  Apostles  wrote  as  it  was  dictated  to  them  by  the  Holy 
GhosLf  The  opinions  of  Catholic  theologians  have  so  moved 
between  two  boundary  lines,  that  by  some,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  by  the  Protestants,  the  strictest  literal  inspiration  has 
been  advocated,  |  while  by  others  inspiration  has  been  re- 
stricted to  those  portions  only  which  contain  doctrinal  matter ;  § 
but  the  decisive  authority  of  the  Church  interfered  not  with 
their  differences.  By  the  most  eminent  authorities,  —  the 
Jesuit  Bellarmine,  the  Dominican  Camas,  the  learned  Bon- 
frere,  the  jesuitically  famous  Cornelius  h  Lapide,  and  others, 
revelatio  proper  was  distinguished  from  divine  assistance 
(assistentia)  ;  the  latter  being  an  influence  which  kept  those 
from  error  who  wrote  by  the  force  of  their  own  minds.  || 
Many  amongst  them  make  no  scruple  in  conceding  that  the 
Evangelists  fall  into  errors.  The  celebrated  Canus  supposes 
an  error  of  memory  in  Stephen  in  the  passage  Acts  vii.  16.^ 
Erasmus  treats  in  like  manner  some  passages  in  Matthew. 

*  Creeds.  t  "  Spiritu  sancto  dictante." 

X  Vide  Casp.  Sanctius,  Salazar,  Huet,  and  Este. 

§  Antonius  de  Dominis,  Richard  Simon,  Henri/  Holden  in  the  Analysis 
Fidei,  1685,  &e. 

II  Quenstedt,  I.  ch.  4,  p.  67  et  seq. ;  Rich.  Simon,  in  his  Criticisms  on 
the  New  Test.,  I.  c.  24. 

^  Where  Ephron  the  Hittite  is  called  "  Ephron  the  father  of  Sichem." 
Comp.  Gen.  xxiii.  —  Tr. 

7* 


78  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

Maldonatus,  in  referring  to  Matt  xxvi.  28,  "  For  this  is  my 
blood  of  the  New  Testament,"  &c,  declares  his  belief  that 
the  words  of  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  have  been 
more  correctly  given  by  Matthew  and  Mark  than  by  Luke 
and  Paul.*  Antonius  do  Dominis  judges  as  follows  concern- 
ing such  defects :  "  Mistakes  of  this  kind,  which  touch  not  the 
substance  of  the  fact,  neither  do,  nor  can  do,  any  injury  to  tho 
faith ;  nor  do  they  relate  to  any  portion  of  the  Divine  Faith 
which  demands  belief,  but  to  that  w^hich  carries  with  it  a 
knowledge  which  is  merely  human,  and  thought  out  by  the 
imnd."t 

Sect.  5.  —  Lutheran  and  Reformed  Divines, 

The  leading  dogmatical  works  of  the  two  Protestant  church- 
es, X  the  Loci  Theologici  of  Melancthon,  and  the  Christian 
Listitutes  of  Calvin,  like  the  symbolical  writings  of  the  Lu- 
theran Church,  propound  no  doctrine  of  Inspiration.  They 
convey  a  general  impression  of  the  divinity  and  credibility 
of  the  Biblical  writings,  and  nothing  more.  With  many 
strong  expressions,  Luther  bears  testimony  to  the  Bible  as  a 
book  whose  entire  contents  are  useful  and  salutary ;  §  in  which 
are  no  contradictions ;  ||  and  every  letter,  nay,  every  tittle,  of 
which  is  of  more  significance  than  heaven  and  earth  together ;  ^ 
and  so  on.  And  yet  he  has  not  hesitated  to  utter  the  well- 
known  offensive  declarations  concerning  the  Canon  of  Holy 
Scripture.  It  is  true  that  at  a  later  period  he  considerably 
softened  down  his  opinions  on  these  points,  but  he  still  freely 
ascribed  to  the  Scriptures  imperfections  or  logical  errors.  In 
his  preface  to  Linken's  "  Annotations  on  the  first  Five  Books 
of  Moses,**  **  he  says :  **  Doubtless  the  Prophets  studied  the 
writings  of  Moses,  and  the  last  Prophets  studied  the  first,  and 
wrote  down  in  a  book  the  good  thoughts  which  the  Holy  Spirit 

♦  Quen$tedt,  I.  ch.  4,  p.  75  ;  R.  Simon,  I.  p   185. 

t  R.  Simon,  I.  p.  525. 

I  The  Lutheran,  and  the  Refonned  or  Calvinistic  Church.  —  Tb« 

4  Walch,  I.  1196.    Ihid..  II.  1758. 

y  Ibid ,  VIU  3140.        H  Ibid.,  VUI.  2161.        »»  Ibid.,  XIV.  171. 


TUE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  79 

excited  (vom  H.  Geiste  eiQgegeben)  within  them.  But  allowing 
that  these  good,  faithful  teachers  and  searchers  of  the  Scrip- 
ture sometimes  build  with  a  mixture  of  hay,  straw,  and  stubble, 
and  not  entirely  with  silver,  gold,  and  precious  stones,  the 
foundation  nevertheless  remains  unshaken ;  as  for  the  other, 
the  fire  will  consume  it."  Luther  also  took  the  liberty  to  un- 
derstand Old  Testament  words  in  a  sense  different  from  that 
which  is  given  them  as  they  are  explained  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. This  passage  from  Isa.  viii.  17, 18,  —  "  And  I  will  wait 
upon  the  Lord,  that  hideth  his  face  from  the  house  of  Jacob, 
and  I  will  look  for  him.  Behold,  I  and  the  children  whom 
the  Lord  hath  given  me  are  for  signs  and  for  wonders  in 
Israel,"  &c.  —  is  understood,  as  quoted  by  the  author  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  (ii.  13),  as  a  declaration  made  by 
Christ ;  but  Luther,  in  his  Commentary  upon  Isaiah,  explains 
it  as  a  declaration  by  the  Prophet  himself.*  Concerning  the 
argument  of  Paul,  conducted  on  the  ground  of  a  typical  ap- 
prehension of  the  history  of  Hagar  and  Sarah,t  he  frankly 
declares  that  it  "  is  too  unsound  to  stand  the  test,  and  yet  it 
throws  a  clear  light  upon  the  question  of  faith."  In  relation 
to  the  sections  forming  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Matthew, 
and  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  Luke,  where  commentators 
have  had  much  disputation  as  to  what  portions  refer  to  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  what  to  the  end  of  the  world,  he 
is  of  opinion  that  Matthew  and  Mark  have  mixed  both  events 
together  indiscriminately,  and  do  not  observe  the  order  which 
Luke  has  observed.  J  According  to  Genesis  xii.  1-11,  God 
first  appeared  to  Abraham  in  Haran  ;  according  to  Acts  vii. 
2,  he  had  already  appeared  to  him  in  Mesopotamia.  Luther 
observes  upon  this :  "  It  appears  to  me  that  Moses  narrates 
this  history  carefully  and  accurately:  not  so  Stephen,  who 
has  only  borrowed  it  from  Moses.  Now,  it  often  happens 
that,  when  one  gives  a  plain,  hasty  narration  of  anything,  he 
does  not  pay  such  close  attention  to  all  the  circumstances,  as 

*  Walch,  VI.  121  et  seq.  t  Gal.  iv.  22  et  seq. 

X  Walch,  XI.  2496. 


80  THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION. 

they  must  do  who  wish  to  write  faithfully  a  history  of  paf^ 
occurrences,  for  the  benefit  of  posterity.  Moses  is  an  his- 
torian :  Stephen  relies  upon  the  fact  that  the  history  stands 
written  by  Moses  *'  [and  that  hence  his  hearers,  perusing  that 
history,  were  in  no  danger  of  being  misled  by  his  cursory 
detail  of  facts].  In  Gen.  xv.  13,  the  duration  of  the  Egyp- 
tian bondage  is  given  as  four  hundred  years ;  Exod.  xii.  40, 
giTes  it  at  four  hundred  and  thirty  years ;  while  Paul,  on  the 
contrary,  in  Gal.  iii.  17,  following  the  Septtuigint  and  the 
Samaritan  (Pentateuch)  reckons  the  time  from  the  period 
when  the  promise  was  given  to  Abraham  until  the  end  of  the 
Captivity,  at  four  hundred  and  thirty.  Now,  Luther  first 
endeavors,  under  the  guidance  of  Lyra,  by  unnatural  wrest- 
ing, to  reconcile  this  calculation  of  Paul  with  the  text,  and 
then,  at  Gen.  xv.  13,  he  makes  the  admission  that  here  the 
historian  "  does  not  very  closely  and  accurately  calculate  the 
time."  * 

With  him,  however,  such  questions  are  generally  insignifi- 
cant Of  mistakes  in  answering  questions  concerning  matters 
purely  historical,  he  says :  "  These  mistakes  are  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  do  no  damage  to  the  faith,  nor  do  they  prejudice 
our  cause ;  concerning  Truth  alone  must  we  firmly  adhere  to 
the  Sacred  Scripture,  and  rigidly  defend  it,  while  we  leave 
to  others  things  that  are  darker,  to  be  settled  by  their  own 
judgments."  f  Giving  his  opinion  on  the  book  of  Job  in  his 
**  Table  Talk,"  he  observes ;  ''  This  book,  excellent  as  it  is, 
was  not  written  by  him  (Job),  nor  concerning  him  only,  but 
all  the  afilicted.  Job  did  not  actually  utter  the  toorda  ascribed 
to  him  ;  but  his  thoughts  were  such  as  are  there  represented. 
The  book  unfolds  itself  before  us,  both  in  matter  and  execu- 
tion, much  after  the  manner  of  a  comedy,  and  the  strain  of  its 
argument  is  almost  that  of  a  fable,**  X 

The  same  lil>eral  mode  of  viewing  the  verbal  fidelity  and 
the  chronological  accuracy  of  the  history,  presents  itself  in 


•  Walch,  XL  1448.  t  Ibid.,  1089. 

%  CoUoqaia,  ed.  Frankf.  1571,  II.  102. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  81 

Calvin's  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  Luke  —  to  give  an  in- 
Btance  —  has  related  that  temptation  of  Christ  as  second^ 
which  in  Matthew  is  the  third.  Upon  this  Calvin  remarks : 
"  It  signifies  nothing  at  all,  for  it  was  not  the  intention  of  these 
Evangelists  so  to  weave  the  thread  of  history  as  always  to 
preserve  exactly  the  order  of  time,  but  to  collect,  as  they 
would  present  in  a  mirror  or  on  a  tablet,  a  summary  of  those 
things  which  it  is  most  advantageous  for  us  to  know  concern- 
mg  Christ." 

Luke  *  differs  from  Matthew  t  in  his  manner  of  stating  the 
command  of  our  Lord  concerning  that  high  manifestation  of 
patient  endurance,  where  a  man,  after  being  deprived  of  one 
garment,  yields  up  again  another.  Calvin,  referring  to  this, 
simply  observes,  "  Diverse  readings  in  Matthew  and  Luke 
change  not  the  sense."  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  chap, 
xi.  21,  the  passage  found  in  Gen.  xlvii.  31  is  quoted  accord- 
ing to  the  Greek  version  (Septuagint),  j  which  follows  a 
reading  different  from  the  Hebrew  text.  §  Calvin  briefly 
remarks,  "  We  well  know  that  the  Apostles  were  not,  in  this 
matter  (of  quotation),  so  very  precise  ;  but  in  reality  there  is 
little  difference."  Concerning  1  Cor.  x.  8,  Adhere  Paul  men- 
tions twenty-three  thousand  instead  of  twenty-four  thousand, 
Calvin  says,  "  It  is  not  a  new  thing,  where  it  is  not  intended 
to  present  a  minute  enumeration  of  individuals,  to  give  a 
number  which  substantially  approximates  the  actual  truth." 
Upon  Matthew  xxvii.  9,  he  says  it  is  clear  that  Zechariah 
must  here  be  read  instead  of  Jeremiah ;  and  adds,  "  How  the 
name  of  Jeremiah  crept  in  here,  I  confess  I  do  not  know,  nor 
am  I  anxious  about  the  matter."  In  that  candid  way  does 
Calvin  judge  concerning  the  more  external  errors  of  memory. 
And  as  to  the  doctrinal  contents  of  Scripture,  he  speaks  as 
follows :  "  Seeing  that  heavenly  oracles  are  not  of  every-day 
occurrence,  they  obtain  complete  authority  among  believers 

*  Chap.  vi.  29.  t  Chap.  v.  40. 

X  Kal  TrpocreKiivrjaev  ern  to  ciKpov  rrjs  pd^dov  avrov. 
^  Eng  Vers,  from  Hebr. :  "  And  Israel  bowed  himself  upon  the  bed's 
head." 


82  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   mSPIRATION. 

only  when  they  prove  themselves  to  have  proceeded  from 
heaven,  as  if  the  very  living  words  of  God  themselves  are 
distinctly  heard  therein.** 

Zuinglius,  in  treating  of  the  Church  Fathers,  has  given  a 
canon  which  accords  infallibility  to  Christ  alone,  so  withhold- 
ing it  from  the  Apostles.  These  are  the  words :  "It  is  not 
true  that  the  writings  of  all  holy  men  are  infallible ;  nor  is  it 
true  that  they  do  not  err.  This  pre-eminence  must  be  given 
to  the  Son  of  God  alone  out  of  the  whole  human  race."  * 

The  immediate  followers,  also,  of  the  German  Reformers, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  Swiss  Reformers,  speak  of  certain 
imperfections  in  the  Biblical  writers,  in  a  manner  not  con- 
sistent with  very  extreme  notions  of  Inspiration.  Bugen- 
hagen,  f  in  the  scheme  he  drew  up  for  harmonizing  the  narra- 
tives of  our  Lord's  passion,  remarks :  "  Consider  that  the 
Evangelists  wrote  each  for  himself  what  they  saw,  and  often- 
times while  they  record  what  occurred,  they  are  heedless  of 
the  order  of  occurrence."  He  also  takes  especial  care  to 
expose  the  errors  of  the  Alexandrine  translation  (Septuagint), 
which  have  sometimes  been  transferred  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

Likewise  Breuz,  upon  Rom.  ix.  25,  %  remarks,  "  that  the 
quotation  does  not  give  the  true  sense  of  the  Old  Testament 
text,  but  that  the  pui-port  is  the  same. 

BuUinger,  the  Swiss,  very  ingenuously  allows  that  the 
sacred  penmen  were  liable  to  errors  of  memory.  In  reference 
to  1  Cor.  X.  8,  he  writes :  "  Tnmscribers  easily  fall  into  error 
in  stating  numbers  ;  but  sometimes  the  nmters  also  were  led 
hy  treacherous  memories  into  the  commission  of  mistakes.** 

Castellio,  another  Swiss  theologian,  complains  that  Paul,  in 

•  Schriften  ron  Ustcri  nnd  V6g«lin,  II.  247. 

t  Bu^nhaf^n  wm  a  distiiif^uishcd  promoter  of  tho  Roformation  in 
Denmark.  Vido  MOntcr's  Kirch.  Gcscliichto  von  Dancmark  und  Nor> 
wegcn.  —  Tb. 

I  "  Ar  ho  saith  also  in  Osee,  I  will  call  them  mj  people  which  were 
not  my  people ;  and  her  beloved,  whldi  waa  not  beloved."  Quoted  from 
Ilos.  ii  S3. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  83 

Rom,  ix.,  has  not  expressed  his  meaning  more  fully  and 
openly ;  and  brings  against  the  Apostle's  logic  the  charge,  that 
it  confounds  together  two  comparisons  which  ought  to  have 
been  kept  distinct,*  &c. 

Moreover,  after  Melancthon,  the  Lutheran  Church  had  no 
knowledge  of  such  definitions  concerning  inspiration  as  repre- 
sent it  affecting  minute  details.  The  "  Loci  Theologici "  of 
Chemnitz,  1591,  leave  the  dogma  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  f 
entirely  undiscussed;  and  even  John  Gerhard,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  seventeenth  century  (1610-25),  while 
indeed  in  his  "  Loci  Theologici,"  that  most  important  dogmat- 
ical work  of  the  Lutheran  Church,  he  has  definitions  of  great 
strictness  upon  the  authority  of  Scripture,  and  its  perfection^ 
nevertheless  said  nothing  in  his  earlier  writings  upon  the 
subject  of  its  inspiration.  %  Definitions  that  go  into  detail 
first  occur  in  "  Systema  Theologicum "  of  Calovius,  §  in  the 
second  half  of  this  century  (1655  -  77).  As  to  what  opinions 
the  Reformed  Church  adopted  on  the  subject,  we  may  say 
that  its  earlier  confessions  confine  themselves  entirely  to  the 
mere  assertion  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  as  a  dogma. 
The  "  Formula  Consensus  Helvetici,"  which  appeared  not 
earher  than  1675,  declares  in  detail  concerning  the  Old  Tes- 
tament: "It  is  divinely  inspired  (^eoTri/euo-ros),  equally  as  re- 
gards the  consonants,  the  vowels,  and  even  the  vowel-points, 
or  at  least  as  it  regards  the  force  of  the  vowel-points,  both  as 
to  matter  and  as  to  words."  ||  To  this  position  most  of  the 
divines  of  the  Reformed  Church  adhere.  Inspiration,  in  the 
widest  extent  of  the  idea,  is  especially  vindicated  by  the 
erudite  Professor  Yoetius,  of  the  University  of  Utrecht,  in  a 

*  Dial.  II.  De  Electione,  pp.  103,  107,  132. 

t  The  dogma  concerning  the  nature  and  authority  of  Scripture.  —  Tr. 

}  By  direction  of  Dr.  Tholuck  in  a  recent  communication  the  transla- 
tion here  varies  slightly  from  the  original  text.  —  Tr. 

§  Calovius  died  1686.  It  is  said  that  he  daily  offered  up  the  petition, 
"  Imple  me,  Deus,  odio  haereticorum  !  "  —  Tr. 

II  "  Turn  quoad  consonas,  tum  quoad  Vocalia,  et  puncta  ipsa,  sive 
punctorum  saltem  potestatem,  et  turn  quoad  res,  tum  quoad  verba, 


84  THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPmATION. 

treatise  entitled  "  Quousque  se  extendat  Auctoribus  Scripturao 
Inspiratio."  *  "  Not  a  word,"  it  is  here  said,  "  is  contained  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures  which  was  not  in  the  strictest  sense  in- 
spired, —  the  very  interpunctuation  not  excepted :  even  what 
the  writers  previously  knew  was  given  them  afresh  by  inspi- 
ration ;  and  this  was  the  case,  not  indeed  as  it  regards  impres- 
sions of  things  intelligible  by  the  exercise  of  their  natural 
faculties,  but  as  it  regards  formal  conception  and  actual 
record."  In  direct  contradiction  to  Luke  i.  1-3,  to  the  ques- 
tion, "  Whether  ordinary  study,  inquiry,  and  premeditation 
were  necessary  for  writing  (the  Scriptures),"  it  is  replied 
(p.  47)  :  "  No ;  for  the  Spirit  immediately,  extraordinarily, 
and  infallibly  moved  them  to  write,  and  both  inspired  and 
dictated  the  things  to  be  written." 

Besides  the  two  great  Protestant  Churches,  the  adherents 
of  Luther  and  Calvin,  we  must  also  take  into  consideration 
the  followers  of  Socinus.  Agreeing  with  the  Reformers  re- 
specting the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  it  was  nevertheless 
maintained  by  Socinus,  in  his  treatise  "  De  Auctoritate  Scrip- 
turae,"  t  that  into  things  "  which  are  of  small  moment,"  the 
Evangelists  and  Apostles  have  allowed  slight  errors  to  enter ; 
and  agreeably  with  such  a  notion,  the  commentators  of  this 
party,  here  and  there,  acknowledge  errors  of  memory  in  the 
Biblical  writers. 

But,  even  amongst  the  great  Protestant  Churches,  there 
went  forth  in  the  seventeenth  century,  side  by  side  with  that 
extreme  theory  already  mentioned,  another  of  a  more  mod- 
erate character.  This,  however,  met  with  great  opposition. 
In  the  Reformed  Church  (followers  of  Calvin),  we  find 
learned  theologians,  of  the  French  Academy  at  Saumur  espe- 
cially, unhesitatingly  admitting  here  and  there  an  incorrect 
apprehension  of  the  Old  Testament  by  the  writers  of  the 
New,  or  errors  of  memory.  We  also  find  German  Reformed 
theologians,  such  as  Junius,  Piscator,  and  others,  equally  free 
in  their  sentiments.    The  liberal  tendency  of  opinion  thus 

•  "  Dispatationet  8elect«,"  p.  1.  f  Chap.  L  p.  15. 


THE   DOCTllINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  85 

manifested  was  reduced  to  more  general  exegetico-dogmatical 
principles  by  the  Arminian  party,  who  were  thrust  out  of  the 
Dutch  Reformed  Church.  Grotius,  in  his  "  Plea  for  Peace,"  * 
avows  his  belief  that  the  historical  books  of  Scripture,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  prophetical,  can  lay  claim  to  nothing  beyond 
credit  for  the  ability  of  the  writers,  and  their  sincere  desire  to 
communicate  the  truth.f  In  the  treatise  "  Riveti  Apologia 
Discuss.,"  p.  723,  it  is  asked,  by  way  of  affirmation  to  the 
contrary,  "  Has  Luke  said,  The  word  of  the  Lord  came  to 
Luke,  and  the  Lord  said  to  him.  Write  ? "  A  thorough  re- 
modelling of  the  earlier  theory  of  inspiration,  and  its  reduc- 
tion to  some  such  form  as  has  been  defended  by  the  supra- 
naturalists  of  more  recent  times,  is  found  in  the  Eleventh 
Letter  in  the  works  of  the  Arminian  Le  Clerc.  I  Episcopius  § 
ascribes  to  the  Apostles  only  an  assistance  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  in  the  composition  of  works  which  proceeded  from 
their  own  determination  ;  and  allows  that  in  such  passages 
as  the  genealogy  in  Matthew  ch.  i.  errors  may  possibly  have 
crept  in. 

In  the  Lutheran  Church  it  was  Calixt,  ||  in  the  middle  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  who  gave  forth  a  more  liberal  theory  of 
inspiration.  The  distinction  between  revelatio  and  assisten- 
tia  or  directio  divina,  which  had  widely  prevailed  in  the 
Catholic  theology,  he  adopted,  and  maintained  "  that  God  did 
not  reveal  in  a  peculiar  manner  to  the  sacred  writers  those 
things  which  naturally  struck  their  senses,  or  were  otherwise 
known  to  them ;  but  still  that  he  so  directed  and  aided  them 
as  that  they  should  write  nothing  contrary  to  the  truth.'* 
Nay,  more,  he  even  limits  the  revelatio  to  those  truths  only 


*  "  Votum  pro  Pace  Ecclesiastica." 

t  Opera  Theol.,  ed.  Amsterd.  1679,  III.  672  —  Tr. 

X  "  Sentimens  de  quclques  Th6ologiens  de  Hollande  sur  THistoire 
Critique  du  V.  Test."     Composee  par  Rich.  Simon.     1685. 

4  "  Instit.  Theologiae,"  III.  5.  1. 

II  For  an  account  of  this  remarkable  divine  and  controversialist,  see 
Moller,  "  Cimbra  Literata,"  and  Mosheim  by  Murdoch,  Cent  17,  S.  2,  p. 
2,  ch.  1.    Schlegel's  note  to  sect.  21.  —  Tr. 
8 


86  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   INSPIRATION. 

which  Thomas  Aquinas  had  fixed  upon  as  the  peculiar  and 
direct  objects  of  faith. 

These  sentiments  were  still  more  widely  diffused  by  the 
school  of  the  Helmstadt  theologians.  In  the  Swiss  and 
French  Reformed  Churches,  the  sentiments  of  Le  Clerc  met 
with  a  welcome  reception.  In  the  "Th^ologie  Chr^tienne" 
of  the  celebrated  Pictet,  Professor  in  Geneva  (1702),  the 
inspiration  of  Scripture  is  limited  to  the  truth  which  was 
knowable  by  Revelation  alone.  From  this  were  distinguished 
—  while  based  upon  it  —  those  conceptions  which  were  pecu- 
liar to  the  Apostles  themselves.  Revelation  was  restricted  to 
those  things  which  by  natural  means  were  not  known  to  them. 
As  to  all  other  things  a  divine  guidance  in  preventing  error 
was  adopted. 

Sect.  6.  —  State  of  Opinion  in  England, 

A  freer  treatment  of  the  question  —  namely,  the  limitation 
of  inspiration  to  the  subject-matter  —  has  from  the  first,  along 
with  individual  advocates  of  a  more  rigid  view,  found  place  in 
the  English  Church.*  Several  Dissenters,  also,  eminently 
distinguished  for  their  exemplary  piety,  occupy  the  same 
liberal  ground.f  The  Presbyterian  Church  of  Scotland  alone 
has  continued  up  to  the  present  day  to  adhere  to  the  straitest 
acceptation  of  the  idea  of  inspiration.  The  free  spiritual 
insight  of  Baxter  in  that  celebrated  work,  "The  Reformed 
Pastor,"  is  especially  surprising.  He  says :  "  As  the  glory  of 
the  Divine  Maker  shines  more  brilliantly  in  the  whole  frame 
of  nature  than  in  an  individual  grain,  stone,  or  insect ;  and  in 
the  whole  man,  more  than  in  any  particular  part  of  least 
comeliness ;  so  also  the  authority  of  God  shines  forth  more 
visibly  in  the  whole  system  of  Holy  Scripture  and  holy  doc- 
trine than  in  any  minor  part.     Nevertheless,  for  the  advan- 

♦  Vide  Lowth'8  Vindication  of  the  Old  and  New  Test.,  1692;  Wil- 
liams's Boyle  Lecture,  1695;  Clarice's  Div.  Authority  of  Holy  Script., 
1699,  ftc. 

t  Baxter's  Method.  Theol  Christ  1681  ;  Doddridge's  Dissertation  on 
Inspiration  of  N.  Test,  &c 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  87 

tage  of  the  whole  system,  these  parts  are  not  wanting  in 
beauty  any  more  than  the  others,  such  as  the  hair  and  nails. 
But  their  authority  is  to  be  seen  more  from  their  agreement 
with  the  whole  of  Scripture,  and  from  their  more  distinguish- 
ing portions,  than  from  themselves  separately."  Here  alone 
in  an  orthodox  divine  of  the  seventeenth  century  does  the 
question  meet  with  a  complete  treatment,  in  which,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  conception  of  Scripture  as  an  organism,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  argument  from  the  testimony  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  stand  forth  as  fundamental  ideas. 

Sect.  7.  —  Progress  of  Opinion  in   Germany,  S^c.  in 
the  Eighteenth   Century. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  eighte'enth  century,  in  Germany, 
the  firmly  built  fabric  of  the  traditional  ecclesiastical  system 
began,  upon  this  question  as  upon  others,  to  totter.  The 
following  circumstances  were  instrumental  in  bringing  about 
this  result.  The  peculiarity  of  the  Calixtine  efforts  has  been 
pointed  out  in  a  recent  Monograph  upon  George  Calixt,  as 
follows :  "  There  lies  therein  the  opposition  of  religious  to 
dogmatic  salvation,*  together  with  an  appeal  to  the  nature 
and  foundation  of  the  early  Apostolic  Church.  To  such  an 
extent  had  exclusive  zeal  in  attaching  importance  to  dogmas 
been  carried,  that  the  body  of  dogmatic  declarations,  sepa- 
rately and  conjointly,  had  nearly  been  exalted  to  the  position 
of  an  arbiter  respecting  the  reception  or  non-reception  of 
eternal  life.  Against  this  domination  over,  and  entire  absorp- 
tion of,  faith  by  mere  dogma,  Calixt  raised  his  voice."  f     In  a 


*  That  is,  we  suppose,  Salvation  through  the  possession  of  religious 
principle  was  opposed  to  salvation  (so  called)  through  the  mere  reception 
of  certain  dogmas.  —  Tr. 

t  Gasz  :  George  Calixt,  und  der  Si/nkretismus,  p.  11.  "Syncretism." 
—  This  term,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  marks  the  great  controversy 
between  Calixt  and  the  more  bigoted  sections  of  the  Protestant  Church. 
This  divine  had  travelled  much  abroad,  and  intercourse  with  different 
churches  had  given  him  a  liberalized  tone  of  feeling  which  led  him  to 
propose  a  cessation  of  hostilities  between  Protestants  and  Romanists, 


88  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

manner  purely  practical,  the  same  necessity  made  itseli'  felt  in 
the  pietism  which  arose  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Led  on  by  the  exclusively  practical  power  of  inward  religion, 
this  pietism  was  indifferent  to  the  dogmatical  system  of  the 
day,  and  attended  solely  to  the  fundamental  truths,  by  means 
of  which  the  religious  life  in  man  is  awakened.  The  estal)- 
lished  doctrine  of  inspiration  was  not  even  touched  upon  by 
Spener,  except  that  he  impugns  the  notion  of  the  pure  pas- 
siveness  of  its  recipients,  and  maintains  the  influence  of  human 
peculiarities  upon  the  form  of  the  discourse  or  writing.*  As, 
however,  traditional  reverence  for  the  earlier  dogmatical  sys- 
tem gave  way,  and  as  the  spiritual  tone  of  pietism  was  again 
corrupted  into  mere  externalism,  —  in  that  proportion  was 
preparation  made,  as  soon  as  scientific  appliances  could  be 
so  directed,  to  combat  as  erroneous  and  dangerous  those 
decisions  which  had  hitherto  been  considered  as  indifferent 

In  addition  to  this,  there  came  an  impulse  from  without. 
Earlier  even  than  m  Germany,  a  relaxed  notion  of  inspira- 
tion, nay,  indeed,  a  notion  reducing  it  to  its  very  minimum^ 
had  spread  itself  in  England.  From  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  writings  of  the  laxer  English  clergy, 
of  the  Dissenters  as  well  as  of  the  Deists,  had  found  an  ever- 
increasing  reception  amongst  the  theologians  of  Germany. 
Besides,  about  the  middle  of  the  century,  orthodox  culture, 
and  the  inward  spiritualism  promoted  by  the  pietists,  had 
been  superseded  amongst  many  of  the  German  divines  by  a 
purely   literary  interest.     From   the   scrutiny  of  this  new 

and  —  "  not  to  unite  together  and  become  one  body,  as  his  opponents 
interpreted  him  to  mcun,  but — to  abstain  from  mutual  hatred,  and  cul- 
tivate mutual  love  and  (;ood-will."  Ho  was  an  Aristotclinn  in  Philos- 
ophy, as  a  theologian  had  strong  sympathy  with  the  Fathers,  and 
wished  to  find  in  the  "  Apostles'  Creed  "  and  the  usages  and  doctrines 
of  the  first  five  centuries  a  common  ground  of  union  for  the  three  great 
sections  of  German  Christians,  the  Roman  Catliolic,  the  Lutlieran, 
and  the  Ueformed  or  Calvinist  Churches.  This  doctrine  \ras  branded 
as  "Syncretism."  Mosh.  Eccl.  llist,  Cent.  17,  Sect.  21.  Notes  by 
Schlegel.  —  Th. 
t  CoDsilia  Thoologiea  I.  p.  46etseq. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  89 

power,  those  contradictions  which  had  been  discovered  — 
indubitable  fruits  of  historico-critical  inquiry  during  the  domi- 
nancy  of  the  more  rigid  theory  of  inspiration  —  could  not 
remain  concealed.  The  history  of  the  middle  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  gives  us  the  impression  that  that  was  a  period 
of  general  mental  indolence,  not  only  in  theology,  but  also  in 
philosophy,  in  the  arts,  and  in  pohtics.  Even  that  which  had 
been  retained  from  the  earlier  theory  of  inspiration,  moved  on 
now  with  difficulty  only  as  a  dead  tradition,  in  respect  to 
which  living  faith  was  quite  as  much  wanting  as  courage  for 
a  total  negation  of  it.  Upon  this  age  of  indolence,  about  the 
middle  of  the  century,  there  follows,  in  the  second  half  of  it, 
in  the  province  of  Theology  as  in  others,  an  energetic  striv- 
ing to  beat  out  new  paths.  The  spirit  of  the  age  had  been 
already  alienated  from  the  kernel  of  the  earlier  doctrines  of 
faith  ;  it  now  began  to  break  in  pieces  and  cast  away  what 
yet  remained  of  the  shell,  and  to  seek  a  new  kernel.  Thus 
the  diminution  of  the  dogma  of  inspiration,  which  had  hitherto 
been  ever  advancing,  at  last  degenerates  into  its  complete 
negation.  As  one  of  the  earliest  representatives  of  the  in- 
cipient insecurity,  who  were  still,  through  reverence  for  eccle- 
siastical tradition,  shy  in  taking  bolder  steps,  the  theologian 
Matthew  Pfaff  of  TiJbingen  may  be  mentioned,  whose  lean- 
ing towards  the  position  occupied  by  Calixt  and  the  Armin- 
ians  but  ill  concealed  itself  behind  a  cautious  phraseology.* 

The  aim  of  this  first  part  of  our  treatise  has  now  been 
attained.  It  has  been  proved  that  the  assumption  of  an  in- 
spiration extending  to  the  entire  contents,  to  the  subject-matter 
and  form  of  the  sacred  writings,  has  so  little  claim  to  the 
honor  of  being  the  only  orthodox  doctrine,  that  it  has  only 
been  the  opinion  of,  comparatively  speaking,  an  exceedingly 
small  fraction.  Since  now  the  symbolical  writings  of  the 
Lutheran  Church  have  not  so  much  as  once  erected  a  barrier 
in  the  way  of  a  freer  construction  of  the  doctrine,  the  Lu- 


*  Introduction  to  his  "Notse  Exeget.  in  Evang(;I  Matt."  1721.     Also 
his  "  Institutioncs  Theol.  Dogm.  et  Moral."     1719.     He  died  1760. 
8* 


90  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

theran,  who  is  true  to  his  symbols,  can  take  no  umbrage  at 
the  establishment  of  such  a  free  construction.* 


Part  H.  —  EXEGETICO-DOGMATia 

Preliminary. 

We  have  submitted,  that  belief  in  an  absolute  (schlecht' 
hinnige)  inspiration  of  the  Scripture  was  by  no  means  first 
abandoned  by  Rationalism.  So  far  from  this  being  the  case, 
we  may  say  that  at  no  period  whatever  was  such  an  opinion 
generally  entertained.  During  the  period  of  ecclesiastical 
faith,  first  from  the  age  of  the  Fathers  up  the  IMiddle  Ages, 
and  then  again  from  the  Reformers  to  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  we  have  observed  an  increasing  restriction 
put  upon  those  liberal  definitions  which  had  been  received 
from  the  very  beginning.  If,  then,  a  growing  limitation  might 
take  place  in  the  interest  of  Faith,  there  may  be  idso  a 
growing  freedom  from  limitation  in  the  same  interest.  This 
will  occur  as  soon  as  Faith  has  become  more  conscious  of  its 
peculiar  nature,  and  has  been  distinguished  from  that  which 
forms  the  peculiar  business  of  science.  After  such  earnest 
conflicts  of  science  with  the  earlier  forms  of  theology,  in  the 
midst  of  which  Christendom  became  still  more  conscious  of 
the  foundations  of  faith,  we  in  modem  times  have  arrived  at 
a  point  where  a  deeper  apprehension  of  the  doctrine  of  in- 
spiration, derived  from  the  nature  of  faith,  should  result  as 
one  of  the  fruits  of  those  conflicts. 

Let  us  more  accurately  define  tlie  subject  of  inquiry.  The 
question  is  not  whether  the  Holy  Scripture  includes  inviolable 

I— ^1^—  II I 

*  The  reader  will  remember  that  ProfoMor  Tholack  is  a  memlrar  of 
the  Lutheran  Church.  lionco  his  jusUHcation.  In  Kn^^Iand,  also,  wo 
are  in  the  main  free  from  auUioritativo  derlonitions  on  \\m  point.  While 
the  Bible  is  firmly  hold  to  l>c  of  pnmmount  authority  i\»  embodying  the 
will  of  God  to  man,  tlio  rule  of  fnith  and  practice,  none  but  tlie  ill« 
informed  or  bigoted  will  trench  upon  the  inquinsr's  peace.  —  Ta. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  91 

divine  contents,  a  revelation  from  God.  We  profess  faith 
in  the  contents  of  the  Law,  as  revealed ;  so  of  the  Prophets  ; 
and  so  of  the  teachings  of  Christ,  and  of  the  Apostles.  Thus 
much  any  one  may  profess,  and  yet  feel  himself  urged  to 
abandon  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  in  the  current  sense  of 
the  term. 

By  inspiration,  as  distinguished  from  revelation,  is  custom- 
arily understood,  since  the  time  of  Calovius,  and  especially 
since  the  time  of  Baumgarten,*  the  communication  by  God  f 
of  the  entire  written  contents  of  Scripture,  whether  the  matter 
written  down  was  previously  known  to  the  writers  or  not. 
The  most  recent  advocate  of  the  more  rigid  theory.  Professor 
Gaussen,  says  expressly  that  the  Holy  Spirit  by  inspiration 
did  not  at  all  aim  at  the  illumination  of  the  writers,  —  they 
were  nothing  more  than  transient  instruments,  —  a  view  was 
had  rather  to  their  books.  % 

Now  we  can  well  imagine  the  believer's  heart,  when  pre- 
disposed to  take  a  side  in  favor  of  the  more  narrow  theory, 
turning  away  with  displeasure  from  any  lax  notions  on  the 
subject.  Certainty  in  matters  of  faith  depends  upon  a  be- 
lieving disposition  ;  properly,  indeed,  only  certainty  concern- 
ing the  true  doctrine  of  salvation  ;  but  still  it  may  be  asked, 
Can  this  certainty  be  sufficiently  stable,  if  everything  which 
stands,  not  only  in  direct,  but  also  in  indirect  connection  with 
this  doctrine  of  salvation  be  not  also  true  ?  That  absolute 
inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  advocated  by  Professor 
Gaussen  thus  appears  clearly  to  the  Christian  mind  as  a  re- 
ligious necessity.     We  must,  however,  first  of  all,  draw  atten- 


*  "  De  Discrimine  Revelationis  et  Inspirationis."     1745. 

t  "  Die  gottliche  Eingebung." 

X  "  It  is  of  consequence  for  us  to  say,  and  it  is  of  consequence  that  it 
be  understood,  that  this  miraculous  operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost  had  not 
the  sacred  writers  themselves  for  its  object,  —  for  these  were  only  his  in- 
struments, and  were  soon  to  pass  away ;  but  that  its  objects  were  the 
holy  books  themselves,  which  were  destined  to  reveal  from  age  to  age  to 
the  Church  the  counsels  of  God,  and  which  were  never  to  pass  away." 
Theopneustia.  —  Tr. 


92  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

tion  to  the.  fact  that  this  external  certainty  is  not  wholly  given 
therewith.  Consider  the  position  of  the  unlearned  reader. 
What  does  it  avail  you,  says  the  Roman  Catholic,  to  have  an 
infallible  document,  unless  you  have  also  an  infallible  trans- 
lation ?  And  what  could  an  infallible  translation  avail  you, 
without  an  infallible  interpretation  ?  Nay,  verily,  your  learned 
men  themselves,  who  abide  by  the  original  text,  —  whence  de- 
rive they  certainty  concerning  its  correctness  ?  Does  not  the 
number  of  various  readings  in  the  New  Testament  alone,  ac- 
cording to  modern  calculation,  exceed  fifty  thousand  ?  One  can 
and  must  yield  to  our  pious  friend.  Professor  Gaussen,  and 
confess  that,  essentially,  the  gi-eat  majority  of  these  readings 
are  immaterial.  But  this  is  by  no  means  the  case  with  them 
all.  That  it  is  not  indifferent,  for  example,  whether  the 
passage  concerning  the  Trinity  in  1  John  v.  7,  8  be  genuine 
or  not,  Professor  Gaussen  so  decidedly  acknowledges,  that  he 
believes  the  defence  of  the  received  reading  must  at  all  risks 
be  undertaken,  notwithstanding  the  passage  is  found  in  no 
Greek  Codex  except  the  Codex  Britannicus*  of  the  six- 
teenth century ;  in  the  Codex  Ravianus,  which  is  a  copy 
partly  from  the  Complutensian  Polyglot  and  partly  from  the 
third  edition  of  Stephens ;  and  in  the  Vulgate  only  since 
the  tenth  century.  If  one  credible  testimony  in  reference 
to  this  subject  were  not  of  equal  weight  with  many,  a  host 
of  others  might  easily  be  added ;  but  this  instance  must  now 
suffice. 

The  Christian  who  can  feel  his  faith  certain  and  out  of 
danger  only  in  a  diplomatic  attestation  derived /rom  vnthouiyf 
can  find  peace  only  by  repairing  to  the  (so-called)  infallible 

•  Codex  Brit.  —  Otherwise  called  Codex  Moiitfortianus  or  DuUinmsts, 
Thb  is  one  of  the  cursive  manuscripts,  and  belongs  to  the  library  of  Trin- 
ity College,  Dublin.  It  closely  reseniblos  the  Vulgate  in  the  much  dis- 
puted passage  rcfem><l  to  in  the  text,  and  in  many  others.  Dr.  Tholuck 
uses  the  title  given  it  by  ErasmuH.  Dr  Davidson  is  of  opinion  that  it 
could  not  have  originated  earlier  than  the  fifteenth  ccutury.  (Kitto'9 
Cyclop,  Art  Manuscript.  IJibl.)  —  Tr. 

t  Au  external  written  autliority. —  Tb. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPmATION.  93 

Roman  pontiff.  *  But  it  is  not  well  for  us  to  prescribe  to 
Divine  wisdom  the  mode  in  which  it  may  best  and  most  safely 
conduct  men  to  their  object  of  pursuit  (i.  e.  certainty  of  faith). 
Consider  how  former  apologists  for  this  strict  theory  of  in- 
spiration acted ;  and,  indeed,  how  its  most  recent  apologist, 
already  mentioned,  acts.  Their  manner  throughout,  for  ex- 
ample, of  giving  prominence  to  the  passage,  "  All  Scripture 
is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,"  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  is  as  if  their 
theory  depended  entirely  upon  the  testimony  of  the  Bible 
concerning  itself.  But,  in  truth,  their  argument  all  through 
depends  simply  upon  what,  in  their  estimation,  is  the  de- 
mand of  the  religious  necessity  in  man.  Are  we  so  much 
as  conscious  whether  it  is  not  from  this  religious  exigency  that 
we  sometimes  even  wish  that  the  Scripture  itself  were  quite 
differently  arranged  ?  Who  does  not  feel  the  need  of  possess- 
ing an  indubitable  record  from  Christ's  own  hand?  Who 
does  not  wish  that  the  New  Testament  were  equal  in  extent 
to  the  Old?  Who,  moreover,  would  not  deem  it  a  wiser 
arrangement,  if,  instead  of  giving  us  the  first  three  Evange- 
lists with  similar  contents,  one  of  them  had  been  directed 
carefully  to  record  those  passages  in  the  life  of  Christ  which 
they  have  now,  all  of  them,  entirely  omitted  ?  Rightly  has  it 
been  objected  by  Thiersch  to  Moliler's  f  construction  of  the 


*  Comp.  Tholuck's  "  Gesprache  Qber  die  vomehmsten  Glaubensfra- 
gen,"  p.  176. 

t  Mohler  (died  1838)  is  one  of  the  ablest  writers  of  the  Eoman  Cath- 
olic Church.  He  was  once  an  adherent  of  Schleiermacher's  views,  but 
afterwards  opposed  them,  and  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  controversy 
against  Protestantism.  He,  in  company  with  Hermes,  sought  to  base 
the  Romish  dogmas  upon  a  more  profound  and  philosophical  basis,  not 
by  reference  to  Scripture  and  the  practice  of  the  early  Church,  but  to  the 
nature  of  man,  and  the  exigencies  of  his  position,  considered  d,  priori. 
In  short,  he  removed  the  data  of  the  controversy  entirely  from  the  exter- 
nal to  the  internal  or  subjective.  In  this  manner,  much  against  their  in- 
tention, the  writings  of  Hermes  and  Mohler,  by  promoting  a  virtually 
Protestant  spirit,  namely,  that  of  private  judgment,  did  much  towards 
undermining  the  authority  and  infallibility  of  the  Pontiff  and  the  Church. 
Vide  Mohler's  Patrdogie;  also  his  Symhdik.    Mainz,  1832.  —  Tr. 


94  *         THE   DOCTRINE   OP  INSPIRATION. 

Church,  that  the  whole  argument  rests  upon  an  h  priori  accom- 
modation of  historical  facts,  upon  a  presumed  divine  necessity ; 
but  that  history,  and  even  the  history  of  the  Church  and  of 
its  corruption,  takes  shape,  not  according  to  opinions  antece- 
dently established  in  the  mind  of  the  student,  but  must  be  re- 
ceived in  the  fashion  in  which  it  unfolds  itself  What  can 
we  say  when  we  hear  Bellarmine  representing  a  divine  in- 
fallible translation  of  the  Bible  as  a  necessity  on  the  ground 
of  this  fact,  namely,  that  the  great  majority  of  those  prelates 
who  form  the  decrees  of  Councils  are  ignorant  of  Hebrew  !  * 
Which  were  the  more  Christian  wish,  that  the  prelates,  since 
the  Old  Testament  has  been  written  in  Hebrew,  should  learn 
that  language,  or  that,  since  the  prelates  have  no  inclination 
to  do  this,  the  sun  should  regulate  itself  according  to  the 
clock,  and  an  infallible  Latin  Bible  be  added  to  the  Hebrew  ? 
It  were  wise  for  men  not  to  prescribe  the  way  for  satisfying 
their  religious  wants,  but  rather  submissively  to  seek  to  ap- 
prehend the  wisdom  of  God  in  that  which  has  been  given  us 
by  it 

Granted  that  a  theory  of  inspiration  of  a  less  rigid  kind 
would  abate  in  some  measure  the  stringent  proofs  of  our  faith : 
how,  then,  would  Pascal  be  right  when  he  perceives  divine 
wisdom  in  the  fact  that  faith  is  not  established  by  external 
evidences  ?  And  is  it  not  true  that  modem  conviction,  arrived 
at  through  doubt  and  internal  conflict,  is  the  possession  of  the 
believer  much  more  fully  than  would  have  been  the  case  by 
any  divine  contrivance  by  virtue  of  which,  whenever  a  ques- 
tion arose,  an  external  oracle  instantly  supplied  an  answer  ? 

We  may  therefore  readily  lend  an  ear,  when  so  great  a 
number  of  witnesses  for  the  faith,  aAer  conscientious  exami- 
nation, assure  us  that  that  religious  necessity  to  which  men 
appeal  in  support  of  an  absolute  {schlechthinniges)  inspira- 
tion of  the  Scriptures  cannot  possibly  be  right,  since  in  the 
very  Scripture  itself  tliere  are  found  decisive  facta  which 
stand  opposed  to  it  We  shall  pursue  our  inquiry  in  tho 
following  order :  — 

•  Opera,  I.  Do  Verbo  Deo,  S.  10. 


THE    DOCTBINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  95 

Sect.  1.  —  Arguments  against  the  absolute  *  inspiration 
of  Scripture  derived  from  the  condition  of  the  Biblical  writ- 
ings themselves. 

Sect.  2.  —  Arguments  to  the  same  effect  derived  from  the 
declarations  of  the  Biblical  writers  concerning  themselves. 

Sect.  3.  —  Alleged  proofs  from  Scripture  itself  of  its 
absolute  inspiration. 


Sect.  1.  —  Arguments  against  the  Absolute  Inspiration  and 
the  Infallibility  of  Scripture,  derived  from  the  Nature  of 
the  Document  itself 

Were  the  Biblical  writer,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word, 
nothing  more  than  an  instrument  of  utterance  through  which 
God  speaks  to  men,  must  we  not  also  expect  that  no  human 
imperfection  in  any  respect  should  be  contained  in  Scripture  ? 
Not  only  must  eternal  truths  be  free  from  all  error,  and  from 
all  former  imperfection  ;  but  also  the  ordinary  historical,  geo- 
graphical, and  other  facts  must  be  correctly  reported  through- 
out. Nay,  we  might  even  demand  the  absence  of  all  lingual 
imperfections.  We  have  seen  that  a  belief  in  inspiration 
to  this  very  extent  has  been  actually  demanded  by  many. 
On  the  contrary,  in  relation  to  the  language  a  Divine  accom- 
modation has  been  conceded  by  others.  That  the  language 
of  the  New  Testament  in  no  respect  varies  from  the  Helle- 
nistic Greek  current  at  the  time,  is  clear  as  daylight.  It  is 
true  that  it  might  be  reasonably  maintained  that  the  Deity,  in 
order  to  become  inteUigible  to  that  generation,  must  speak  to 
them  not  in  classic  Greek,  to  which  they  were  not  accustomed, 
but  in  the  more  corrupt  dialect  with  which  they  were  familiar. 


*  From  the  general  tenor  of  our  author's  language,  it  would  appear 
that  the  original  word,  schlechthinnig ,  —  a  word  not  yet  in  very  common 
use  among  German  writers,  —  may  be  fairly  represented  by  the  word 
"  absolute."  By  this  term  Professor  Tholuck  designates  a  theory  which 
errs  by  excess  of  strictness  and  credulity,  —  such  as  that  of  Professor 
Gausson.  —  Tb. 


96  THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION. 

But  then  in  the  language  of  the  New  Testament  books,  not 
only  dialectic,  but  also  individual  *  characteristics  of  language 
appear.  The  style  of  Paul,  and  that  of  John,  correspond 
entirely  with  what  we  know  from  other  sources  of  the  indi- 
vidual characters  of  these  Apostles  respectively.  If  herein 
also  one  should  wish  to  find  a  Divine  accommodation  to  the 
manner  of  speech  peculiar  to  these  Apostles,  such  an  assump- 
tion would  be  the  less  satisfactory,  since  no  adequate  ground 
for  any  accommodation  of  the  kind  can  be  discovered. 

But  in  addition  to  this,  especially  i«  Paul,  there  are  cer- 
tain imperfections  of  style,  t  imperfections,  too,  founded  in  his 
own  peculiarities.  For  example,  his  vivacity  very  frequent- 
ly occasions  him  to  leave  a  sentence  unfinished,  through  for- 
getting the  conclusion.  If  the  Divine  accommodation  is  to 
be  extended  to  these  individual  defects,  then  we  must  say  that 
such  a  caricature  of  Divine  accommodation  is  not  only  aim- 
less, but,  in  so  far  as  such  defects  actually  embarrass  the  un- 
derstanding, positively  self-defeating.  Assuredly,  therefore, 
we  have  no  choice  but  to  abandon  this  position,  and  to  admit 
the  influence  of  human  peculiarity  upon  the  contents  of  Scrip- 
ture. But  even  this  must  be  farther  extended,  namely,  to  the 
form  of  the  thoughts  recorded.  That  is  to  say,  the  peculiarity 
of  a  Paul,  of  a  John,  or  of  a  James,  is  to  be  understood  as 
seen  in  the  mode  of  putting  forth  Christian  truth.  The  life 
of  our  Lord  in  the  fourth  Gospel,  for  example,  is  recorded  in 
a  manner  different  from  that  exhibited  in  any  of  the  other 
tliree  Gospels,  —  a  manner,  indeed,  which,  from  the  person- 
ality of  John,  is  quite  conceivable. 

As  unto  persons  who  from  different  elevations  view  the 
general  mass  of  a  town,  the  houses  group  themselves  in 
various  forms,  and  present  different  centres;  so  the  above- 

•  That  is,  wherein  the  idiosyncrMtes  of  the  individiud  writers  ara  ap. 
parent.  —  Tr. 

t  It  i.4  rcf;rpttcd  that  a  paaaiige  on  the  dofucts  of  the  Paaline  style,  to 
which  Dr.  Tholuck  in  a  private  communicatioa  refers  ns,  cannot  here  be 
cited,  —  the  work  containing  it«  Btdejteimig  Uber  Origenn,  not  being  with* 
in  roach.  —  Ta. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  97 

mentioned  Apostles  present  Christian  truth  under  diversified 
points  of  view,  according  to  their  personal  peculiarity,  and 
according  to  the  progress  of  their  inward  development.  To 
Paul,  the  interposition  of  a  righteousness  by  faith,  acquired 
through  Christ,  —  to  John,  the  communication  of  a  true  eter- 
nal life,  —  to  James,  the  illustration  of  the  law  as  a  law  of 
freedom,  —  are  the  ground  ideas  respectively.  And  must 
this  peculiarity,  too,  be  nothing  more  than  the  product  of  a 
Divine  imitation  ?  *  We  cannot  forbear  inserting  here  the 
words  of  a  profound  writer,  who  has  become  an  intellectual 
polar  star  to  many  inquiring  minds  in  England  and  America, 
—  I  mean  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  f 

"  Why  should  I  not  [believe  the  Scriptures  throughout  to 
be  dictated,  in  word  and  thought,  by  an  infallible  intelligence]  ? 
Because  the  doctrine  in  question  petrifies  at  once  the  whole 
body  of  Holy  Writ,  with  all  its  harmonies  and  symmetrical 
gradations,  —  the  flexile  and  the  rigid,  the  supporting  hard 
and  the  clothing  soft,  —  the  blood  which  is  the  life,  the  in- 
telligencing  nerves,  and  the  rudely  woven,  but  soft  and  stringy, 
cellular  substance,  in  which  all  are  imbedded  and  lightly  bound 
together.  This  breathing  organism,  this  glorious  pan-harmon- 
icon,  which  I  had  seen  stand  on  its  feet  as  a  man,  and  with  a 
man's  voice  given  to  it,  the  doctrine  in  question  turns  at  once 
into  a  colossal  Memnon's  head,  a  hollow  passage  for  a  voice  ; 
a  voice  that  mocks  the  voices  of  many  men,  and  speaks  in 
their  names,  and  yet  is  but  one  voice  and  the  same ;  and  no 
man  uttered  it,  and  never  in  a  human  heart  was  it  conceived. 
Why  should  I  not  ?  Because  the  doctrine  evacuates  of  all 
sense  and  efficacy  the  sure  and  constant  tradition,  that  all  the 
several  books  bound  up  together  in  our  precious  family  Bibles 
were  composed  in  different  and  widely  distinct  ages,  under  the 

*  "  Divine  imitation,"  — gOttUchen  Mimih.  By  these  terms  our  author 
means,  God  interposing  to  produce  effects  similar  to  those  which  would 
natui-ally  follow  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  writers  :  which,  being  unneces- 
sary, and  contrary  to  the  analogy  of  the  divine  proceedings,  is  not  to  be 
admitted.  —  Tr. 

t  Confessions  of  an  Inquiring  Spirit,  pp.  31  -36.     Lond.  1840 
9 


98  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

greatest  diversity  of  circumstances  and  degrees  of  light  and 
information,  and  yet  that  the  composers,  whether  as  uttering 
or  as  recording  what  was  uttered  and  what  was  done,  were  all 
actuated  by  a  pure  and  holy  spirit,  one  and  the  same,  —  (for 
is  there  any  Spirit  pure  and  holy,  and  yet  not  proceeding 
from  God,  —  and  yet  not  proceeding  in  and  with  the  Holy 
Spirit  ?)  —  one  Spirit,  working  diversely,  now  awakening 
strength,  and  now  glorifying  itself  in  weakness ;  now  giving 
power  and  direction  to  knowledge,  and  now  taking  away  the 
sting  from  error !  Ere  the  summer  and  the  months  of  ripen- 
ing had  arrived  for  the  heart  of  the  race,  —  while  the  whole 
sap  of  the  tree  was  crude,  and  each  and  every  fruit  lived 
in  the  harsh  and  bitter  principle,  —  even  then  this  Spirit  with- 
drew its  chosen  ministers  from  the  false  and  guilt-making 
centre  of  self.  It  converted  the  wrath  into  the  form  and 
organ  of  love,  and  on  the  passing  stonn-cloud  impressed  the 
fair  rainbow  of  promise  to  all  generations.  Put  the  lust  of 
self  in  the  forked  lightning,  and  would  it  not  be  a  spirit  of 
Moloch  ?  But  God  maketh  the  lightning  his  ministers ;  fire 
and  hail,  vapors  and  stormy  winds,  fulfilling  his  words, 

"  *  Curse  ye  Meroz,'  said  the  angel  of  the  Lord ;  '  Curse  yo 
bitterly  the  inhabitants  thereof,*  sang  Deborah.  "Was  it  that 
she  called  to  mind  any  personal  wrongs,  rapine  or  insult,  that 
she  or  the  house  of  Lapidoth  had  received  from  Jabin  or 
Sisera?  No:  she  had  dwelt  under  tlie  palm-tree  in  the 
depth  of  the  mountain.  But  she  was  a  mother  in  Israel ; 
and  with  a  mother's  heart,  and  with  the  vehemency  of  a 
mother's  and  a  patriot's  love,  she  had  shot  the  light  of  love 
from  her  eyes,  and  poured  the  blessings  of  love  from  her  lips, 
on  the  people  that  had  jeoparded  their  lives  to  the  death 
Against  the  oppressors;  and  the  bitterness  awakened  and 
Itorne  alofl  by  the  same  love  she  precipitated  in  curses  on 
the  selfish  and  coward  recreants  who  came  not  to  the  help  of 
the  Lord^  to  the  help  of  the  Lord  agaimt  the  mighty.  As  long 
AS  I  have  the  image  of  Deborah  before  my  eyes,  and  while 
I  throw  myself  back  into  the  age,  country,  circumstances,  of 
this  Hebrew  Boadicea,  in  the  not  yet  tamed  chaos  of  the 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION.  99 

spiritual  creation,  —  as  long  as  I  contemplate  the  impassioned, 
higli-souled,  heroic  woman,  in  all  the  prominence  and  individ- 
uality of  will  and  character,  —  I  feel  as  if  I  were  among  the 
first  ferments  of  the  great  affections,  —  the  proplastic  waves 
of  the  microcosmic  chaos  swelling  up  against,  and  yet  towards, 
the  outspread  wings  of  the  Dove  that  lies  brooding  on  the 
troubled  waters.  So  long  all  is  well,  all  replete  with  instruc- 
tion and  example.  In  the  fierce  and  inordinate  I  am  made 
to  know,  and  be  grateful  for,  the  clearer  and  purer  radiance 
which  shines  on  a  Christian's  paths,  neither  blunted  by  the 
preparatory  veil,  nor  crimsoned  in  its  struggle  through  the 
all-enwrapping  mist  of  the  world's  ignorance ;  whilst  in  the 
self-oblivion  of  these  heroes  of  the  Old  Testament,  their  ele- 
vation above  all  low  and  individual  interests,  above  all,  ia  the 
entire  and  vehement  devotion  of  their  total  being  to  the 
service  of  their  Master,  I  find  a  lesson  of  humility,  a  ground 
of  humiliation,  and  a  shaming,  yet  rousing,  example  of  faith 
and  fealty.  But  let  me  once  be  persuaded  that  all  these 
heart-awakening  utterances  of  human  hearts,  —  of  men  of 
like  faculties  and  passions  with  myself,  mourning,  rejoicing, 
suffering,  triumphing,  —  are  but  as  a  Divina  Gommedia  of  a 
superhuman  —  O,  bear  with  me,  if  I  say  —  Ventriloquist ; 
that  the  royal  Harper  to  whom  I  have  so  often  submitted 
myself  as  a  many-stringed  instrument  for  his  fire-tipped  fingers 
to  traverse,  while  every  several  nerve  of  emotion,  passion, 
thought,  that  thinks  the  flesh  and  blood  of  our  common  hu- 
manity, responded  to  the  touch,  —  that  the  sweet  Psalmist  of 
Israel  was  himself  as  mere  an  instrument  as  his  harp  an 
automaton  ;  —  poet,  mourner,  and  suppliant,  all  is  gone  ;  ail 
sympathy  at  least,  and  all  example.  I  listen  in  awe  and  fear, 
but  likewise  in  perplexity  and  confusion  of  spirit." 

[Coleridge  proceeds  .s  follows  :  — 

"  Yet  one  other  instance,  and  let  this  be  the  crucial  test  of 
the  doctrine.  Say  that  the  book  of  Job  throughout  was  dic- 
tated by  an  infallible  intelligence.  Then  reperuse  the  book, 
and  still,  as  you  proceed,  try  to  apply  the  tenet ;  try  if  you 
can  even  attach  any  sense  or  semblance  of  meaning  to  the 


100  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

speeches  which  you  are  reading.  "What !  were  the  hollow 
truisms,  the  unsufficing  half-truths,  the  false  assumptions  and 
malignant  insinuations  of  the  supercilious  bigots,  who  cor- 
ruptly defended  the  truth,  —  were  the  impressive  facts,  the 
piercing  outcries,  the  pathetic  appeals,  and  the  close  and 
powerful  reasoning  with  which  the  poor  sufferer,  smarting  at 
cnce  from  his  wounds,  and  from  the  oil  of  vitriol  which  the 
orthodox  liars  for  God  were  dropping  into  them,  impatiently 
but  uprightly  and  holily  controverted  this  truth,  while  in  will 
and  in  spirit  he  clung  to  it,  —  were  both  dictated  by  an  infallible 
intelligence  ?  Alas !  if  I  may  judge  from  the  manner  in  which 
both  indiscriminately  are  recited,  quoted,  appealed  to,  preached 
upon,  by  the  routiniers  of  desk  and  pulpit,  I  cannot  doubt  that 
they  think  so,  or  rather,  without  thinking,  take  for  granted 
that  so  they  are  to  think ;  the  more  readily,  perhaps,  because 
the  so  thinking  supersedes  the  necessity  of  all  afterthought."] 
But,  what  is  of  still  greater  importance,  we  also  find 
throughout  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  numerous  proofs  of 
inaccuracy  in  statements  of  fact.  An  anxious  orthodoxy  has 
of  course  endeavored  to  rebut  these  accusations,  and  every- 
where to  maintain  absolute  accuracy.  Tliis  has  been  accom- 
plished, however,  only  by  so  many  artificial  and  forced '  sup- 
ports, that  the  Scripture  set  right  after  this  fashion  wears 
more  the  appearance  of  an  old  garment  with  innumerable 
scams  and  patches,  than  of  a  new  one  made  out  of  one  entire 
piece.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  adversaries  of  Christianity 
have  professedly  fallen  upon  many  discrepancies  where  none 
are  really  to  be  found ;  but  in  many  places,  where  we  can 
compare  Scripture  with  Scripture,  we  meet  with  difficulties 
where  either  the  contnuliction  will  not  admit  of  removal  at 
all,  or  but  very  imperfectly.  In  proportion  as  the  reader  is 
destitute  of  the  skill  which  learning  gives,  in  that  proi>ortion 
will  he  be  unconscious  of  these  facts,  and  l)e  prepared  con- 
fidently to  l)oa8t  in  his  defence  of  a  verbal  inspimtion,  for 
•*  What  one  does  not  know,  gives  him  no  annoyance."  •     This 

•  "  Wm  kh  nicht  ireiM,  machi  mloh  nicht  boUt."  —  Pmo, 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  101 

•remark  is  applicable,  too,  to  our  excellent  friend  Professor 
Gaussen,  who,  in  his  book  already  quoted,  has  given  such  an 
eloquent  vindication  of  plenary  inspiration. 

By  way  of  proof,  we  must  enter  into  some  details.  Out  of 
numberless  instances,  however,  we  shall  select  only  a  few: 
for  if  by  one  or  two  proofs  the  matter  appears  beyond  dis- 
pute, there  is  no  need  to  multiply  arguments.  Entire  accu- 
racy throughout  can  no  longer  be  maintained.  We  make  a 
distinction  between  errors  in  translation  and  errors  in  fact, 
which  occur  in  the  Biblical  writers. 

1.  The  New  Testament  authors  have  made  abundant  use 
of  the  Greek  translation  executed  in  Alexandria,  called  the 
Septuagint.*  This  was  natural,  since  this  translation  was  not 
only  generally  known  to  the  Jews  who  spoke  the  Greek  lan- 
guage, but,  at  the  time  of  the  rise  of  Christianity,  was  also  in 
high  repute  in  Palestine.  Now  there  are  found  in  several 
books  of  that  Greek  translation,  especially  in  the  Book  of 
Psalms,  not  a  few  material  misapprehensions  of  the  proper 
sense ;  or,  at  least,  readings  differing  from  our  Hebrew  text,  f 
Notwithstanding  this,  however,  the  writers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, here  and  there,  even  when  the  argument  depends  upon 
particular  words,  go  not  to  the  original  Hebrew  text,  but 
follow  the  Greek  translation.  This  Professor  Gaussen  admits 
in  page  236  of  his  work.  J  He  assumes,  however,  through 
the  whole  of  his  defence,  that  he  has  made  good  the  position 
that  the  Apostolical  writers  in  all  those  places  where  stress  is 
laid  on  the  quotation,  have  actually  made  their  quotations 
from  the  original  Hebrew.  This  judgment  is  in  this  general 
sense  incorrect.  It  is  true  in  reference  to  Paul  and  Matthew ; 
but  our  author  forgets  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  which 
the  original  (Hebrew)  text  is  never  attended  to,  not  even  in 
those  places  where  the  author  argues  from  passages  which,  as 

=*  On  this  version  see  Dr.  Davidson's  article  in  Kitto's  Cyclop,  of 
Bibl.  Liter,,  sub  voce. 

t  Comp.  Davidson's  Sacred  Hermeneutics,  pp.  334,  338,  et  seq.   Also 
Dr.  Henderson's  Lect.  on  Div.  Insp.,  p.  375,  2d  ed. 

X  Engl.  Transl.,  p.  84. 

9*   ■ 


102  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATIOW. 

tliey  are  translated,  exhibit  material  errors.  *  We  admit  that 
many  of  the  older  orthodox  interpreters  attempted,  at  least 
with  some  of  these  passages,  to  explain  the  Old  Testament 
text  in  the  sense  adopted  by  the  author  of  this  Epistle,  f  But 
the  passage  (chap.  ii.  13)  quoted  from  Isa.  viii.  17,  J  8,  Luther 
explains,  and  the  rest  Calvin  explains,  in  the  sense  demanded 
by  their  Old  Testament  connection,  without  any  regard  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  are  quoted  in  our  Epistle.  From  the 
author's  way  of  arguing  from  Old  Testament  passages,  it  can 
scarcely  be  maintained  that  they  were  merely  applied  for 
hortatory  purposes.  This  would  not  readily  be  conceded 
even  by  the  advocates  of  strict  orthodoxy.  If  this  solution 
then  is  rejected,  we  are  not  aware  tluit  any  others  remain  to 
help  us  to  avoid  the  concession,  that  passages  of  Scripture 
quoted  incorrectly,  and  in  a  way  not  altogether  corresponding 
with  their  proper  original  meaning,  have  been  used  by  way  of 
argument 

2.  We  leave  this  part  of  our  subject,  and  pass  on  to  inac- 
curacies  in  matters  of  fact.  When  such  inaccuracies  must  be 
proved  by  instances  of  collision  between  the  Biblical  and 
extra-Biblical  witnesses,  the  Christian,  having  faith  in  the 
Bible,  will  hesitate  to  admit  their  existence.  But  he  can 
hardly  persist  in  his  hesitation,  if  cases  are  adduced  where 
the  writers  report  either  the  very  words  of  our  Lord,  or 
matters  of  pure  fact,  with  irreconcilable  variations  the  one 
from  the  other.  It  is  true  that  here  also  many  charges  of 
contradiction  have  been  proved  to  be  groundless.  Some, 
however,  remain,  wliere  the  Christian  critic  cannot  with 
the  most  candid  mind  disown  discrepancies,  —  discrepancies 
in  which  one  only  of  tlie  reports  given  can  be  faithfuL 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  ac(*ording  to  Luke  vi.  and  Matt, 
v.-vii.,  presents  in  this  twofold  narnition,  such  manifold 
variations,  that  many  of  the  older  commentators  assumed  tlie 

•  Comp.  chap,  ii  6,  13,  13 ;  x.  5 ;  xli.  26. 

t  Dr.  Tholuck  conUx}vcrt«  the  PauUiic  authorship  of  the  Epistle  to 
the  Ilfhrt* W8.  and  dcenu  the  weight  of  evidence  to  bo  rotlier  in  favor  of 

Apollos.  — Tb. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  103 

delivery  of  two  separate  Sermons  on  the  Mount,  and  to  this 
solution  of  the  difficulty  Professor  Gaussen  still  adheres.  The 
opposite  view,  however,  was  adopted  by  Chemnitz  and  Calo- 
vius,  and  is  also  received  by  all  the  more  recent  writers  of  the 
present  century.  If  we  grant  this,  then  the  confession  ap- 
pears unavoidable  that  the  same  ideas  are  reproduced  by  the 
two  Evangelists  in  different  forms.  The  ideas  expressed  by 
Matt.  V.  40  and  vii.  16,  are  in  those  places  given  forth  in 
a  different  form  from  what  they  assume  in  Luke  vi.  29,  44. 
Matt.  vii.  12  differs  from  Luke  vi.  3l.  Now  when  Chem- 
nitz, in  order  to  establish  the  thorough  correctness  of  the 
narrations,  assumes  that  the  same  thought  in  the  same  dis- 
course may  have  been  twice  expressed  by  our  Lord  in  a 
different  form  and  position^  he  only  introduces  a  makeshift, 
which,  while  it  removes  from  the  reporters  the  charge  of  dis- 
crepancy, reflects  no  little  discredit  upon  the  method  of  dis- 
coursing adopted  by  Christ  himself.  With  Luke  vi.  29  and 
Matt.  V.  40  he  has  not  been  bold  enough  to  use  this  expedient, 
although  he  was  compelled  to  admit  that  by  the  two  Evan- 
gelists the  violence  supposed  to  be  committed  is  represented 
under  different  forms.* 

Stier  also,  who  deems  it  altogether  objectionable  to  admit 
that  in  Matthew,  who  was  an  Apostle,  there  is  found  any 
departure  whatever  from  historical  accuracy,  has  been  com- 
pelled to  allow  in  Luke  what  in  Matthew  he  has  protested 
against-t  He  has  even  given  up  generally  the  defence  of 
verbal  truth  and  correctness.     "  The  Spirit  of  God,"  he  says, 

=*  Luke  vi.  29.  "  And  him  that  taketh  away  thy  cloak,  forbid  not  to 
take  thy  coat  also." 

Matt.  V.  40.  "  And  if  any  man  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,  and  take 
away  thy  coat,  let  him  have  thy  cloak  also." 

These  and  many  other  similar  variations  must  be  fatal  to  any  theory 
of  i^erhal  inspiration  ;  but  since  on  either  side  the  ethical  principle  enforced 
is  the  same,  the  value  of  the  Bible  as  the  depository  of  moral  and  re- 
ligious tnith  is  not  necessarily  affected.  Comp.  also  Luke  vi.  20-23, 
and  Matt.  v.  3  - 12  ;  Luke  vi.  30,  and  Matt.  v.  42  ;  Luke  vi.  27,  28,  35 
and  Matt,  v,  44,  45.  —  Tr. 

t  Stier's  Reden  des  Herrn  nach  Matt.,  pp   1 70,  308. 


i04t  THE   DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION. 

"so  put  the  Evangelists  in  mind  of  the  discourses  of  our 
Lord,  that  they  might  write  them,  not  word  for  word,  or  with 
entire  fulness  according  to  the  letter  ;  but  the  Spirit  of  Truth 
has  withal  permitted  no  essential  untruth  whatsoever  to  oc- 
ciu*."  *  Professor  Gaussen  alone  persists  in  maintaining  that 
such  formal  diversities,  where  found,  must  have  as  their  origi- 
nator the  Holy  Spirit  himself,  to  whom  (he  says)  it  is  per- 
mitted to  express  the  same  thought  in  various  forms  of  lan- 
guage. Certainly.  Only  it  must  be  remembered  that  along 
with  this  is  also  given  u^  the  strictly  faithful  recording  of  the 
discourses  of  our  Lord,  who  actually  delivered  them  only  in 
one  of  two  ways. 

If,  now,  by  an  examination  of  the  Scripture  in  detail,  we 
discover  a  human  side,  on  account  of  which  the  Bible  is  not 
to  be  declared  free  from  defects  and  errors,  then  the  question 
is,  How  can  a  theory  of  inspiration,  which  shall  be  consistent 
with  these  phenomena,  be  established?  The  historical  part 
of  this  treatise  has  proved  how  by  a  great  number  of  theo- 
logians, both  Protestant  and  Catholic,  a  positive  Divine  co- 
operation was  asserted  only  in  relation  to  that  portion  of  the 
contents  of  Holy  Writ  which  was  revealed,  or  the  truths 
which  were  the  proper  objects  of  faith  ;  f  from  which  position 
it  follows  that  revelation  and  inspiration  are  identical.  As  it 
regards  the  remaining  contents,  it  was  held  that  a  negative 
Divine  efficacy  was  present,  serving  as  a  defence  against  vital 
error,  i.  e.  error  damaging  to  the  doctrine  of  fiiith.  To  this, 
as  we  have  seen  above,  amounts  the  language  of  Stier  even, 
if  we  take  into  account  certain  portions  of  his  writings ;  al- 
though, judging  from  others,  he  approximates  more  nearly 
tlian  any  other  German  theologian  to  the  older  idea  of  in- 
spiration ;  so  also  the  views  of  the  more  recent  English  theo- 
logians, among  the  Dissenters  as  well  as  among  the  clergy  of 
the  Episcopal  Church.  Dr.  Henderson  designates  it  as  the 
fruit  of  prejudice  to  say  tlmt  tlic  Holy  Scripture  in  all  its 

•  Stior's  Redcn  de«  Ilorm  nnoh  Mntt,  p.  74. 
t  "  Don  uigontlichon  UluubciutwiUirhuitcn." 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  105 

parts  alike  has  been  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  such  a 
manner  as  that  thereby  human  co-operation  was  superseded.* 

The  prevailing  doctrine,  even  in  the  strictest  form  of  it, 
both  in  the  Catholic  and  in  the  Protestant  Church,  makes 
such  a  distinction  between  the  separate  contents  of  Scripture, 
as  must  necessarily  lead,  at  least,  to  a  charitable  judgment  of 
the  difference  of  opinion  which  has  obtained  upon  the  subject. 
"We  have  already  seen  how  Thomas  Aquinas  made  a  distinc- 
tion between  that  truth  which  is  given  by  God  principaliterj 
as  the  proper  object  of  faith,  and  those  other  portions  of  Scrip- 
ture which  belong  to  faith  only  indirectly.^  The  most  rigid 
writers  upon  dogmatic  theology  amongst  the  Lutherans,  % 
make  a  similar  distinction  between  that  which  belongs  io  faith 
generally,  and  that  which  belongs  io  faith  specially  considered: 
to  the  latter  belong  only  the  dogmas  of  faith  ;  to  the  former, 
all  the  remaining  contents  of  Scripture.  The  opinion  of  the 
Jesuit  Tanner,  that  all  things  whatsoever  which  the  Bible 
contains,  "  even  the  account  of  the  fox-tails  of  Samson,  and 
the  building  of  the  tower  of  Babel,"  &c.,  belong  to  the  articles 
of  rehgious  faith,  is  nothing  less  than  ridiculous. 

It  is  therefore  clear,  that  when  these  theologians  feel  con- 
strained to  draw  the  fence  of  inspiration  around  the  entire 
written  word,  it  is  only  from  the  apprehension  that,  if  this 
were  not  done,  the  portion  which  properly  belongs  to  faith 
would  thereby  be  made  insecure.  In  one  place  this  fence 
cannot  be  completed.  Even  by  the  most  stringent  defenders . 
of  inspiration  no  means  have  been  discovered  whereby  they 
could  evade  the  confession  that  it  does  not  lie  before  us  diplo- 
matically certain ;  but  that  the  decision  concerning  it  must  be 
left  to  the  scientific  investigations  of  the  learned.  The  con-' 
sequence  which  results  from  this  is  one  of  importance.  The 
Bible,  as  it  appears  to  us,  can  in  no  case  pass  as  verbally 
inspired ;  therefore  also  its  contents  cannot  in  all  their  details 

*  Lect.  on  Div.  Insp.,  p  296  et  seq.,  2d  ed. 
t  Vide  p.  76,  ante. 

t  Quenstedt,  Theol.  Didact.  Polem.,  Tom.  I.  4,  2,  5 ;  and  Konig, 
Theol.  Posit.  Prolog.,  Sect.  133. 


106  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   IN8PIRATI0W. 

ikroiighout  he  considered  as  externally  guaranteed.  Professor 
Gaussen  himself  is  forced  to  allow  this ;  and  he  rests  satisfied 
with  admiring  that  Divine  guidance  whereby  things  are  so 
brought  about,  that^  notwithstanding  the  great  uncertainty 
which  surrounds  individual  "  readings,"  yet  no  Scripture 
truth  which  is  an  object  of  faith  (Glaubenswahrkett)  is  un- 
settled, since  each  rests  upon  more  than  one  passage,  and  even 
the  various  readings  only  give  shades,  and  not  real  diversity 
of  meaning.  Now  if  this  consideration  suflSces  here  to  give 
comfort  to  the  mind,  why  should  it  not  avail  also  if  failure  of 
memory,  and  errors  in  certain  historical,  chronological,  geo- 
graphical, and  astronomical  details  must  be  admitted  ?  and  if 
here  and  there  a  passage  appears  to  be  spurious?  or  if, 
amongst  the  canonical  books,  a  few  are  found  that  are  un- 
canonical  ?  It  is  an  undeniable  fact,  that  hundreds  of  the 
most  distinguished  Christians,  who  have  brought  forth  fruit  in 
joyful  faith,  and  have  stood  forth  in  that  respect  prominently 
as  Christian  exemplars,  have  thus  judged  concerning  the 
Scriptures,  and  have  nevertheless  been  ready  to  lay  down 
their  life  for  the  Gospel. 

We  proceed  upon  the  same  ground  as  that  upon  which, 
with  the  Christian,  the  Divine  evidence  of  an  inspiration  of 
the  Scripture  rests,  and  say :  This  belief  entirely  coincides 
withy  and  stands  entirely  in  relation  to,  belief  in  the  Divine 
contents.*  Faith  in  a  Divine  inspiration  of  Scripture  relates, 
first  of  all,  to  that  truth  witnessed  by  the  "  demonstration  of 
the  Spirit  and  of  power,"  by  which  (according  to  1  Cor.  ii.  4) 
the  Apostle  established  belief  in  his  preaching  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Corinthians  ;  that  is,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  salvation. 
This  doctrine  approves  itself  to  us  as  truth,  when  the  man 
becomes  conscious  that  his  intercourse  with  Grod  is  re-estab- 

♦  That  iii,  wo  have  Divino  evidence  of  the  inspiration  of  Scripture 
only  from  those  parts  which  liavc  Ikjch  derived  from  God.  The  further 
question,  what  parts  have  been  Uius  derived,  mu^^t  be  determined  by  a 
TMriety  of  considerations,  but  principally  hy  that  which  our  author  pro- 
oeodt  t9  oonsider ;  i.  e.  the  fitness  to  produce  moral  effects  —  towards 
nuking  porfbct  the  :nan  of  God.  —  Tu. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  107 

lished ;  that  for  time  and  for  eternity  he  enters  into  proper 
relation  to  his  God ;  that  thus,  and  thus  alone,  he  can  become 
a  true  man  of  God.*     "  If  the  Spirit  of  God,"  he  maj  ask, 
"  had  not  exerted  a  ruling  power  over  the  recording  of  this 
saving  truth,  and  of  the  facts  upon  which  the  truth  is  founded, 
how  could  the  recorded  word  have  this  effect  upon  me  ?  "     If 
we  Christians  of  the  present  day  ascribe  to  the  written  word 
of  the  Lord  what  those  servants  of  the  High-Priest  ascribed 
to  the  word  then  spoken  to  them,  f  must  not  the  written  be 
substantially  the  same  as  the  spoken  word  ?     If  we  also  ex- 
claim, after  reading  the  Scripture  about  the  holy  sufferings 
and  death  of  the  Lord,  as  that  centurion  did  after  he  had 
witnessed  them,  "  Truly  this  man  was  the  Son  of  God ! "  % 
must  not  these  suifferings  and  this  death,  in  all  their  essential 
features,  have  been  faithfully  recorded  to  us  ?    We  are  speak 
ing  of  fidelity  of  record  with  respect  to  words  and  facts  essen- 
tially.    It  may  be  a  matter  of  dispute,  a  hundred  times  over, 
where  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  essential  and  non- 
essential is  to  be  drawn  ;  but  that  such  a  distinction,  although 
subject  to  uncertainty,  does  really  exist,  is  witnessed  by  the 
speech  and  logic  of  every  nation  where  the  question   has 
been  entertained.     There  is  much  that  is  non-essential,  which 
still  in  some  respects  touches  the  essential ;  but  there  is  also 
that  which  does  not  touch  it  at  all.     The  words,  like  the  facts, 
of  Scripture,  have  a  kernel  and  a  shell.     To  the  former,  the 
witness  of  the  Holy   Spirit  is   direct   and  absolute  ;  to  the 
latter,  only  indirect  and  relative.     The  great  idea  that  the 
disciple  of  the  Lord,  in  so  far  as  his  own  selfish  interest  alone 
is  concerned,  —  suppressing  the  slightest  tendency  to  vindic- 
ti'^sness,  —  should   seek  by  kindness  to  su-bdue  his  enemy, 
remains  entirely  the  same,  whether  Christ  uses  the  example 
of  him  who,  when  sued  at  law,  yields  up  his  cloak  in  addition 
to  his  coat,  as  Matthew  puts  it,  §  or  that  of  him  who  on  the 
highway  is  robbed  of  his  cloak,  and  yields  up  his  coat  also,  as 
Luke  puts  it.  ||     The  fact  of  our  Lord's  resurrection  remains 


*  2  Tim.  iii.  17.        t  The  allusion  is  probably  to  John  vji.  46.  -^  Tji. 
X  Mark  xv.  39.  §  Chap.  v.  40.  H  Chap.  vi.  29. 


108  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION. 

equally  certain,  whether  he  first  appeared  to  these  persons  op 
to  those.  The  Evangelists  have  even  passed  over  in  entire 
silence  the  important  appearing  to  the  five  hundred,  of  whom 
Paul  speaks  in  1  Cor.  xv.  6. 

This  belief  in  saving  truth  and  fact  leads  us  on  still  farther. 
The  word  of  the  Lord  makes  us  certain  that  the  Apostolical 
writers  of  New  Testament  books  must  have  written  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  because  as  bearers  of  this  his  word,  and  as 
promoters  of  his  work,  they  received  from  him  the  promise 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.*  If  this  Spirit  inspired  f  them  during 
their  oral  report,  how  could  he  fail  them  in  their  written  re- 
port ?  Always,  indeed,  holding  fast  that  distinction  already 
mentioned  of  essential  and  non-essential,  we  shall  still  feel 
convinced  of  this,  that  neither  upon  the  communication  of 
historical  knowledge,  gained  by  their  own  experience,  nor 
upon  the  revelation  which  they  had  received  from  God,  could 
their  natural  subjectivity  exercise  any  obscuring  influence. 
And  faith  in  Christian  truth  and  fact,  thus  confirmed,  like 
faith  in  their  inspiration,  will  now  also  determine  our  convic- 
tions concerning  the  Old  Testament  religion.  That  the  Mo- 
saic economy  according  to  its  ritual  part  was  in  a  symbolico- 
dogmatical  respect,  according  to  its  ethical  part  in  an  ethical 
respect,  a  preparative  to  the  Christian  economy,  even  the 
imperfectly  enlightened  but  ingenuous  inquirer  cannot  deny. 
But  the  luminous  eye  of  that  dispensation,  through  which  pre- 
eminently the  preparing  Spirit,  which  diffuses  itself  through- 
out all,  gleams  upon  us,  is  the  prophetic  part.  The  more 
clearly  we  perceive  this  in  the  documents  written  a  thousand 
years  before,  tlie  more  unquestionable  does  it  appear  that 
there  is  a  Divine  co-operation  in  the  production  of  the  record. 

If  moral  and  religious  perfection,  if  the  kingdom  of  God  in 
Christ  upon  earth  be  the  highest  aim  of  humanity,  must  not 
that  document  which  is  the  most  powerful  :igent  in  promoting 
this,  and  in  which  Christendom  has  had,  and  still  has,  the 
fertilizing  spring  and  the  guiding  rule  of  faith,  be  an  especial 

•  Comp.  John  xiv.  26 ;  xv.  26,  27 ;  xvi.  12  - 14. 
f  BeaeeUn,  to  animate,  to  qaickon. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIEATION.  109 

object  of  that  Providence  which  controls  the  events  of  the 
world  ?  In  other  words,  must  not  far  other  than  ordinary 
means  have  been  used  for  the  purpose  of  its  record  and  pres- 
ervation ?  Suppose  that  of  the  written  monuments  of  classical 
antiquity  no  authors  had  been  preserved  except  those  of  the 
iron  and  brazen  ages,  or  that  the  works  of  the  silver  and 
golden  ages  had  come  down  to  us  only  in  copies  which  were 
thoroughly  corrupt  and  unrestorable  by  any  criticism,  what 
then  had  become  of  our  classic  culture  ?  In  like  manner, 
what  had  become  of  our  Christian  culture  if  nothing  had  been 
handed  down  to  us  from  Christian  antiquity  except  perhaps 
the  Apocryphal  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  the  General 
Epistles  of  the  New,  or  even  the  Gospels,  in  a  state  at  once 
mutilated  and  no  longer  capable  of  being  deciphered?  It 
were  presumption  to  declare  upon  mere  a  priori  grounds 
what  Providence  ought  to  have  done,  or  ought  to  have  pre- 
vented, in  order  to  have  secured  for  us  a  record  answering  to 
all  the  conditions  of  a  sufficing  certainty.  But  that  Provi- 
dence must  be  eminently  active  in  this  respect  is  an  unavoid- 
able supposition  to  every  one  to  whom  the  religio-moral  sig- 
nificancy  of  this  record  in  history  has  become  manifest.  And 
have  we  not  in  this  collection  of  books,  embracing  a  period  of 
more  than  three  thousand  years,  the  clearest  proofs  of  a  con- 
trolling Providence?  We  have  already  mentioned  that,  in 
spite  of  the  fifty  thousand  various  readings  found  in  the  New 
Testament,  the  sense  of  it  in  the  main  remains  steadfast.* 
Further,  a  criticism,  which  in  part  has  been  led  on  by  a 
decidedly  negative  interest,  has  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years 
submitted  the  books  of  both  Old  and  New  Testaments,  in  a 
body,  to  the  most  fiery  ordeal.  And  with  what  result  ?  In 
as  far  as  it  pertains  to  the  principal  books  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment at  least,  —  if  we  omit  a  very  small  minority  of  German 

*  "  It  has  been  truly  said,  that  such  is  the  character  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament Scriptures,  that  the  worst  copy  of  the. Greek  text,  and  the  worst 
translation,  represent  the  original  with  sufficient  accuracy  to  secure  all 
the  highest  ends  of  Christian  instruction."  Eev.  S.  H.  Godwin,  Introd. 
Lect.  at  opening  of  New  Coll.  —  Tk. 
10 


110  THE    DOCTRINE    OF    INSPIRATION. 

theologians  who  are  of  a  contrary  opinion,  —  a  growingly 
strong  conviction  among  learned  men  of  their  authenticity. 
Thi55  Bible,  written  by  kings,  herdsmen,  priests,  fishermen, 
and  tent-makers,  and  entirely  as  if  by  accident  bound  to- 
gether into  a  whole,  does  it  not  nevertheless  produce  the 
impression  of  a  collection  of  documents  put  together  with  the 
most  careful  deliberation  ?  From  the  creation  of  man  and 
his  fall,  to  the  apocalyptic  proclamation,  "  Behold,  I  make  all 
things  new,"  one  book,  stretching  thus  over  the  entire  field  of 
the  history  of  mankind,  leads  them  on  in  their  journey  from 
its  very  beginning  to  its  close.  In  the  Old  Testament,  as  in 
the  New,  we  have  first  of  all  the  divine  facts  presented,  then 
Buch  books  as  exhibit  the  faith  and  spirit  of  the  community 
which  by  those  facts  have  been  confirmed,  and  lastly,  the  pro- 
phetical writings  which  conduct  from  the  Old  Testament  to  the 
New,  and  from  this  again  to  the  "  new  heaven  and  new  earth  ** 
where  the  consummation  of  redemption  shall  be  realized ! 

We  have  now  come  to  the  close.  We  have  declared  what, 
with  respect  to  inspiration,  is  certain  to  faiths  —  what,  even 
to  every  common  Christian  reader,  admits  of  certainty,  — 
upon  the  ground  of  the  testimony  of  the  Spirit  and  of  power. 
What  is  not  here  embraced  belongs  more  properly  to  scientijie 
research.  The  faith  which  has  become  conscious  of  its  o>\'n 
nature  will  readily  yield  to  science  its  due  province  in  this  re- 
spect. A  sound  condition  of  the  Church  cannot  be  thought  of 
without  science  ;  for  though  it  be  granted  that  science  has,  in 
the  service  of  human  over-curiousness  and  unbelief,  a  hundred 
times  brought  injury  to  the  Church,  still  we  are  bold  to  aver 
that  in  the  service  of  truth,  morality,  and  faith  it  has  quite 
as  frequently  brought  life  and  blessing  to  the  Churc-h.  We 
know  well  that  timid  minds  will  be  frightened  to  find  that 
upon  so  many  points  they  arc  dependent  on  the  investigations 
of  learned  men.  If  this  does  not  satisfy  that  these  points  are 
by  no  means  essential,  there  is  no  help  for  them.  There  are 
suspicious  souls  who,  if  celestial  spirits  made  their  appearance 
to  them,  would  not  believe  unless  they  brought  autliorized 
written  certifictites  from  another  world.     We  Christians,  how- 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   INSPIRATION.  Ill 

ever,  who  occupy  a  higher  platform  than  that  of  written  cer- 
tificates as  vouchers,  must  learn  to  believe  in  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit.  What  would  a  Paul  say  to  him  whose  faith  in 
the  Son  of  God  would  be  doubtful,  because  he  did  not  know 
whether,  in  Acts  xx.  28,  the  correct  reading  was  "  the  Church 
of  God  '*  or  "  the  Church  of  the  Lord  "  ;  or  because  he  could 
not  feel  certain  whether  "vinegar,"  as  Matthew  says,*  or 
"  wine  mingled  with  myrrh,"  as  Mark  says,  f  was  offered  to 
the  Saviour  on  the  cross  ;  or  whether  Christ  healed  the  blind 
man  on  his  entrance  into,  or  on  his  departure  from  Jericho  ;  { 
or  whether  the  passage,  John  xxi.  24,  25,  was  -subjoined  by 
John  himself,  or  by  a  friend  of  his  ?  To  such  a  doubter,  I 
say,  what  would  a  Paul  answer  ?  He  would  tell  hua,  "  Man^ 
thy  hour  is  not  yet  come  I  " 

*  Matt,  xxvii.  34.  t  Mark  xr.  23. 

X  Comp.  Matt.  xx.  29  ;  Mark  x.  46  ;  Luke  xviii.  35. 


HOLY    SCEIPTURE. 


By  ROWLAND  WILLIAMS,  B.  D., 

VELLOW  AND  FOKME&LT  TUTOR  OF  KING'S  COLLEGE,  CAMBBISGS,  AND  fROFSSSOK  OF 
HEBREW  AT  LAMPETSS. 


"  Whatsoever  things  were  written  aforetime,  were  written  for  onr  learn- 
ing, that  we,  through  patience  and  comfort  of  the  Scriptures,  might 
have  hope."  —  Romans  xv.  4. 

The  study  of  history  has  always  been  allowed  to  be  one 
of  the  happiest  means  of  awakening  and  improving  the  mind. 
It  has  even  been  called  wisdom,  teaching  by  instances.  For, 
if  it  rise  in  any  degree  to  its  high  vocation,  it  summons  the 
men  of  past  times  to  move  before  us  as  they  lived ;  it  enables 
us  to  hear  them,  though  dead,  yet  speak  ;  to  appreciate,  per- 
haps, the  difficulties  which  surrounded  them  ;  and,  by  the  un- 
conscious effect  of  sympathy,  to  ingraft  on  our  own  minds  the 
power  of  confronting  with  no  less  manliness  any  similar  trials 
which  may  possibly  beset  our  path.  So  eminently  is  this 
true,  that  the  man  who  has  traced  with  throbbing  heart  the 
career  of  great  patriots,  stricken  down  perhaps  by  overwhelm- 
ing odds,  or  of  great  thinkers,  who  have  either  embodied  their 
wisdom  in  legislation,  or  J;>id  the  eloquent  page  glow  with  its 
record  for  ever,  has  in  all  probability  assimilated  himself  in 
some  measure  to  the  mighty  of  whom  he  has  read :  for  he 
has  lived  over  in  thought  what  was  their  life  in  act :  he  has 
thus  drunk  into  their  spirit,  and  by  breathing  a  kindred 
atmosphere  has  become  partaker  of  their  very  nature. 
10* 


114  HOLY    SCRIPTURE. 

But  if  such  assertions  may  be  ventured  of  gieat  men  and 
deeds  in  general,  they  more  emphatically  apply  to  such 
records  as  we  have  inherited  of  the  earnest  aspirations  of 
good  men,  in  any  time  or  country,  to  the  eternal  Source  of 
their  being,  and  the  mysterious  Controller  of  their  destiny. 
That  solemn  ritual  of  Greek  tragedy,  which  our  own  Milton 
did  not  disdain  to  recommend  as  a  repository  of  "  grave,  sen- 
tentious wisdom  " ;  those  orators  who  could  tell  an  incensed 
multitude,  that  they  rejoiced  in  having  brought  down  on  their 
country  a  disastrous  defeat  (if  Heaven  so  ordered  it),  rather 
than  see  her  forfeit  her  old  character  for  honor,  and  her  con- 
sciousness of  self-respect ;  those  still  loftier  teachers,  to  whom 
their  country's  mythology  was  only  the  fanciful  expression  of 
a  far  higher  and  more  remote,  yet  ever-present  principle  ;  and 
he,  who  declared  the  world  to  bear  as  clear  a  testimony  to  its 
Author,  as  a  finished  poem  does  to  the  existence  of  a  poet, 
while  no  really  great  man,  he  thought,  could  be  without  a 
certain  divine  inspiration, —  all  these,  I  say,  and  other  records 
of  kindred  meaning,  stir  us  with  an  emotion  of  sympathy  far 
deeper  than  is  inspired  by  the  ordinary  subjects  of  the  his- 
torian. We  watch  with  intense  interest  such  men  groping 
their  way  towards  an  eminence  of  light,  on  which  not  our 
own  arm  has  placed  us ;  we  sigh  at  the  weakness  of  our  race, 
as  we  occasionally  see  them  wander  in  gome  hopeless  maze  of 
speculation;  and  we  can  scarcely  refrain  from  an  exulting 
cry,  when  some  pure  conscience  and  reaching  intellect  seems 
almost  to  lay  hands  "  unknowingly  "  u|)on  the  very  mercy-seat 
of  the  unsearchable  I  AM  that  I  am. 

Yet  after  all,  the  result  accruing  from  such  teachers  among 
the  Gentiles  is  rather  touching  our  hearts  with  wholesome 
emotion,  tium  furnishing  our  minds  with  any  groundwork  on 
which  doctrine  may  be  reared.  Wo»read  them  as  sympathiz- 
ing critics,  but  cannot  sit  at  their  feet  as  pupils.  We  have 
need  therefore  to  look  elsewhere  for  more  definite  teaching. 
And  if  we  seek  such  aid  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  we  soon 
find  reason  to  believe,  that  He  who  nowhere  kept  himself 
without  witness  yet  gave  the  Spirit  in  larger  measure  to  those 


^  HOLT    SCRIPTURE.  -  115 

who  knew  him  by  his  name  Jehovah,  and  worshipped  him  on 
Sion,  the  mountain  of  his  holy  place.  Nor  is  it  necessary 
here  to  dwell  on  that  mere  external  evidence,  which  in  itself 
is  not  unimportant.  The  space  which  custom  allots  me  may 
be  more  profitably  employed  in  directing  your  thoughts  to 
some  of  the  characteristic  features  of  the  books  themselves. 

We  are  speaking  now  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures.  Perhaps 
the  first  thing  to  notice  is  the  manifest  fidelity  of  the  writers, 
both  as  respects  the  manners  of  their  country,  the  character 
of  the  people  described,  and  the  infirmities,  nay,  the  very 
crimes  even,  of  men  whom  they  delight  to  honor.  We  read 
in  their  pages  of  life  as  it  now  exists  in  the  East ;  and  as  it 
may  be  believed  with  partial  variation  to  have  existed  for 
many  ages.  We  find  no  attempt  to  represent  king,  or  prophet, 
or  priest,  as  perfect :  the  tyranny  of  one,  the  passion  of  an- 
other, the  weak  connivance  of  the  third,  are  set  forth  in  their 
naked  simplicity.  And  this  ingenuous  character  is  the  more 
striking,  because  it  is  directly  opposed  to  the  usual  genius  of 
Oriental  narrative,  which  delights  rather  in  pompous  and  in- 
flated exaggeration.  It  is  also  opposed  more  especially  to  the 
writings  of  the  later  Scribes  and  Rabbins,  which  abound  in  la- 
borious trifling  and  transparent  fable.  Nor  can  any  reason  be 
given  for  this  superiority  of  the  older  books  more  obviously 
true,  than  that  the  writers  conceived  themselves  to  be  acting 
under  a  responsibility  of  a  strictly  religious  kind.  They  took 
up  the  pen  to  celebrate  events  which  were  not  merely  the 
triumphs  of  their  race,  but  the  manifestations  of  the  power 
and  the  truth  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel.  They  had  heard 
that  he  abhorreth  the  sacrifice  of  lying  lips,  and  they  would 
not  blot  the  Scriptures  animated  by  his  Spirit  with  any  lying 
legend,  or  cunningly  devised  fable.  Hence  arises  (what,  as 
far  as  the  East  is  concerned,  seems  to  have  been  then  un- 
precedented) the  strictly  historical  and  trustworthy  character 
of  Hebrew  literature.  Growing  up  under  the  shadow  of  the 
temple,  superintended  by  those  who  worshipped  a  God  of 
truth  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  yet  read  every  seventh  year 
in  the  ears  of  all  the  people,  it  has  that  double  guaranty 


116  HOLT   SCRIPTURE. 

which  is  derived  from  intelligent  and  sacerdotal  authority, 
and  from  exposure  to  the  contemporaneous  criticism  of  mai^ses 
of  mankind.  Even  those  books,  such  as  Kings  and  Clironi- 
cles,  which  dwell  chiefly  on  the  outward  history  of  the  nation, 
have  hence  no  common  interest  They  carry  us  as  it  were 
behind  the  scenes  of  an  important  part  in  the  great  drama  of 
the  history  of  the  world.  They  show  us  events  happening, 
and  the  subtle  causes  which  produced  them  ;  man  proposing, 
but  God  disposing;  Israel  rebelling,  and  Jehovah  smiting; 
Cyrus  rearranging  his  conquests,  and  Jehovah  (whom  the 
conqueror  knew  not)  wielding  him  as  an  instrument  to  restore 
bis  people  Israel. 

Yet  a  still  higher  interest  attaches  itself  to  this  collection 
of  records,  when  we  consider  them  as  a  history  emphatically 
of  religion  :  that  is,  in  the  first  place,  of  the  aspiration  of  the 
human  heart  to  its  Creator.*  For  we  then  read  of  men  of 
like  passions  with  ourselves,  treading  a  course  which  resem- 
bles in  its  great  analogies  our  own ;  men  now  striving,  and 
now  at  peace  ;  now  sinning,  and  (as  a  consequence)  suffering ; 
now  crying  unto  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  hearing  them,  and 
delivering  them  out  of  all  their  trouble.  It  is  from  this  point 
of  view,  that  the  Book  of  Psalms,  in  particular,  may  come 
home  to  every  one  of  our  hearts.  Who  cannot  trace,  in  the 
vivid  delineation  of  the  Psalmist's  personal  experience,  in  his 
humiliation,  his  strong  crying,  and  his  tears,  his  trust  in  God, 
his  firm  assurance  of  the  final  triumph  of  the  right,  a  type^  as 
it  were,  and  a  portrait  by  forecast,  alike  of  the  struggles  of 
whatever  is  noblest  in  the  whole  human  race,  and  especially 
of  Him,  its  great  Captain  and  its  Head,  who  was  to  cherish 
the  almost  expiring  fiiune,  until  he  made  tlie  struggle  end  in 
victory  ?    Do  we  fret,  as  it  were,  in  uneasy  anxiety  at  our 

*  If  any  one  supposes  such  a  scntcnro  as  this  either  to  exclude  the 
preparations  of  the  heart  by  God's  providence  and  grace,  or  to  imply 
indiflTeronco  or  despair  as  to  truth  (as  if  thoughts  and  inferences  were 
less  tnistwortliy  than  sensations),  I  can  only  wonder  at  his  ingenuity  in 
misunderstanding.  What  would  such  a  person  think  of  the  first  and 
second  books  of  Uooker  1 


HOLY    8CRIPTURE.  117 

short  life,  and  Its  ever-threatening  end,  —  the  Psalmist  teaches 
us  to  make  such  fear  an  instrument  of  spiritual  growth. 
"  Lord,  let  me  know  mine  end,  and  the  number  of  my  days, 
that  I  may  be  certified  how  long  I  have  to  hve."  "  Teach  me 
to  number  my  days,  that  I  may  apply  my  heart  unto  wisdom." 
Yet,  notwithstanding  such  appeal,  do  our  spirits  sink  within 
us,  either  for  our  own  backsliding,  or  for  the  blasphemy  of 
the  multitude  on  every  side  ?  How  is  such  a  feeling  expressed 
better  than  in  the  words,  "  My  heart  panteth,  my  strength 
hath  failed  me :  and  the  sight  of  mine  eyes  hath  gone  from 
me.  My  lovers  and  my  neighbors  did  stand  looking  upon  my 
trouble  ; . . . .  and  they  that  went  about  to  do  me  evil  talked  of 
wickedness,  and  imagined  deceit  all  the  day  long  "  ?  Would 
we  have  some  one,  alike  righteous  and  friendly,  to  whom  we 
may  appeal  with  confidence  ?  "  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  my 
desire,  and  my  groaning  is  not  hid  from  thee.  O  Lord  my 
God,  be  not  thou  far  from  me."  Or  does  the  consciousness  of 
our  own  unworthiness  bow  us  down,  so  that  almost  we  say 
with  St.  Peter,  "  Depart  from  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful 
man  "  ?  Again,  we  may  adopt  the  piteous  cry,  "  Innumerable 
troubles  are  come  about  me ;  my  sins  have  taken  such  hold 
upon  me,  that  I  am  not  able  to  look  up  ;  yea,  they  are  more 
in  number  than  the  hairs  of  my  head,  and  my  heart  hath 
failed  me."  "  0  Lord,  let  it  be  thy  pleasure  —  that  is,  let  it 
be  the  will  of  thy  free  grace  —  to  deliver  me  ;  make  haste, 
O  Lord,  to  help  me." 

But,  again,  are  such  hopes  and  aspirations  the  jest  of  the 
ungodly,  and  do  the  drunkards  make  songs  upon  us,  because 
M^e  mourn  in  our  prayer,  and  are  vexed  ?  "  Fret  not  thyself," 
says  the  same  faitliful  monitor,  "  because  of  the  ungodly ; 
neither  be  dismayed  at  the  proud  doer :  yet  a  little  while,  and 
the  ungodly  shall  be  clean  gone  :  hope  thou  in  the  Lord,  and 
keep  his  way :  when  the  ungodly  shall  perish,  thou  shalt  see 
it."  Yet  does  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  tarry,  and  the  founda- 
tions of  the  earth  seem  out  of  course?  "Tarry  thou  the 
Lord's  leisure,"  is  still  the  precept ;  "  be  strong,  and  he  shall 
comfort  tliine  heart " ;  let  the  man  of  the  earth  leave  much 


118  HOLT    SCRIPTURE. 

Bubstance  for  his  babes ;  but  as  for  us,  we  will  behold  the 
presence  of  God  in  righteousness :  the  day  cometh  for  us  to 
be  satisfied  with  his  presence,  when  we  wake  up  transformed 
according  to  his  hkeness. 

What  is  it,  then,  brethren,  which  afflicts  us  ?  Sickness,  and 
pining,  of  the  body  or  of  the  heart,  shrinking  from  the  sneer 
of  the  wicked,  remorse  for  our  own  sin,  fear  of  again  otfend- 
ing,  fear  of  death,  and  of  the  dim  unseen  which  is  behind 
death  ?  In  all  these  things  the  Psalmist  persuades  us  we  are 
more  than  conquerors  ;  for  in  the  light  which  God  shed  upon 
him  in  the  valley  of  shadows  we  too  see  light :  we  too  have  a 
share  in  the  songs  of  faith,  which  Grod  his  maker  gave  him  in 
the  night  of  his  affliction.  Said  not  the  Apostle  well,  there- 
fore, "  Whatsoever  things  were  written  aforetime,  were  written 
for  our  learning ;  that  we,  through  patience  and  comfort  of 
the  Scriptures,  might  have  hope  "  ? 

It  may  be  interesting  to  remark  here,  that,  although  a  very 
rigid  criticism  would  find  slender  grounds  for  determining  how 
many  of  the  Psalms  were  absolutely  written  by  David  the 
son  of  Jesse,  there  is  a  sufficient  consonance  between  the 
events  of  his  life  and  the  sentiments  of  a  large  portion  of  the 
number,  to  countenance  decidedly  that  belief,  which  was  the 
tradition  alike  of  the  Jewish  Church  and  of  our  own.  There 
is  the  same  contrast  in  the  life  between  David  innocent  and 
David  guilty,  as  in  the  Psalms  between  his  joyful  exuberance 
of  trust  and  his  deep  cry  of  remorse.  Contrast  in  your 
memories  the  shepherd  stripling,  with  his  heart  yet  unstained, 
going  forth  to  do  battle  with  the  giant  warrior,  and  the  guilty 
king  ascending  the  hill  with  downcast  brow,  not  daring  to  let 
his  mighty  men  scourge  the  Benjaraite,  who  had  cursed  the 
I/ord's  anointed.  "  Let  liim  curse  ;  the  Lord  hath  said  unto 
him,  Curse  David.*'  Now  this  is  the  diflTerenco  between  inno- 
cence and  guilU  Even  so,  how  jubilant  the  cry  of  commun- 
ion with  his  God :  "  The  Lord  is  my  strength :  whom  then 
shall  I  fear  ?  **  And  how  sad  the  agony  of  penitence :  "  D*jep 
calleth  unto  deep  at  the  noise  of  thy  waterspouts ;  all  thy 
waves  have  gone  over  me ;  my  soul  is  full  of  trouble,  and  my 
life  draweth  nigh  unto  hell." 


HOLT    SCRIPTURK.  119 

May  we  not  learn  there,  brethren,  the  eternal  and  ineiFace- 
able  difference  between  doing  the  thing  which  is  right,  and 
forsaking  the  law  of  Him  whose  name  is  Holy  ?  And  was 
not  such  a  lesson  one  of  the  principal  reasons  for  which  Scrip- 
ture was  written?  Yet  even  in  such  dark  depths  we  find 
Scripture  still  written  for  our  consolation :  since  a  way  of 
sighs  and  tears,  but  still  a  way  of  hope,  is  pointed  to  in  the 
words  :  "  Thou  shalt  make  me  hear  of  joy  and  gladness,  that 
the  bones  which  thou  hast  broken  may  rejoice." 

On  turning  forward  to  the  Prophets,  we  find  their  general 
character  is  very  much  the  same.  One  of  their  most  striking 
features  is  their  evidently  intense  perception  of  spiritual 
truths.  This  is  the  more  remarkable,  because  mere  rehgion 
(as  taught  by  a  priesthood)  has  been  thought  sometimes  to 
blunt  the  moral  sense,  by  making  the  Deity  an  arbitrary 
being,  who  acts  apart  from  the  eternal  laws  of  right.  Where- 
as it  is  apparent  on  the  face,  that  neither  the  Psalmist  nor  the 
Prophets  had  any  low  or  mean  conception  of  the  services 
of  that  sanctuary  where  the  honor  of  Jehovah  dwelt.  The 
Psalms  were  in  fact  the  main  part  of  the  Jewish  liturgy ;  for 
the  strains  which  now  sweep  through  Westminster  Abbey  are 
the  same  as  were  chanted  of  old  in  the  temple  of  Sion  ;  and 
the  Prophets  never  burst  out  into  such  indignant  strains,  as 
when  their  hearts  bum  within  them  at  the  sight  of  altars 
thrown  down,  the  ark  taken,  or  the  temple  defiled.  Yet  with 
all  this,  they  ever  lay  most  emphatic  stress  upon  the  weightier 
matters  of  the  Law  ;  upon  the  moral  dispositions,  and  mental 
being,  which  are  both  the  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  the 
processes  by  which  we  grow  up  into  the  full  stature  of  the 
children  of  God. 

If  the  hands  are  full  of  unjust  gain,  "  bring  no  more  in- 
cense, it  is  an  abomination."  If  the  feet  are  swift  to  evil, 
"  who  hath  required  it  of  you  to  tread  my  courts  ?  saith  the 
Lord."  Will  your  solemn  assemblies  at  new  moons,  and  your 
Sabbaths,  atone  for  a  double  heart,  and  for  adding  sin  to  sin? 
Can  you  by  passionate  prayers  and  ceremonial  observances 
make  a  covenant  with  death  ?     That  is  indeed  to  make  lies 


120  HOLY    SCRIPTURE. 

your  refuge.  Judgment  and  righteousness  are  the  line  and 
the  plummet  with  which  the  Lord  layeth  his  sure  foundation- 
atone.  "  G)me  now,  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord : 
if  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  shall  they  *  be  as  white  as  snow  ?  if 
they  be  red  like  crimson,  shall  they  (at  the  same  time)  be  as 
wool?"  Think  it  not,  is  the  inexorable  answer  implied  in 
the  original :  but  "  if  ye  be  willing  and  obedient,  ye  shall  eat 
the  good  of  the  land."  "  Wash  you,  make  you  clean  :  cease 
to  do  evil."  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  un- 
righteous man  his  thoughts :  ^nd  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord,  for  he  will  (then)  have  mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our 
God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon." 

We  have  in  such  texts,  which  might  be  multiplied  indefi- 
nitely, distinct  intimation  of  the  irreconcilable  aversion  of  the 
Almighty  to  any  form  of  moral  evil,  yet  of  his  abundant 
readiness  to  pardon  and  save  the  sinner  returning  from  his 
sin.  Now  it  is  this  truly  spiritual  character  of  the  Bible 
which  fits  it  to  be  a  book  for  all  nations.  Hence  we  do  not 
fear  to  put  it  in  the  hands  of  the  most  ignorant,  not  indeed 
disparaging  other  means  of  grace,  or  forgetting  that  Scriptural 
language  may  be  made  the  vehicle  of  the  worst  passions,  and 
alleged  to  support  the  most  dangerous  errors  :  but  we  do  so  in 
the  conviction,  that  to  the  pure  all  things  are  pure,  and  in  the 
trust  that  He  whose  word  came  of  old  to  prophets  and  teach- 
ers of  righteousness,  will  not  suffer  even  the  record  of  the 
same  word  which  then  came  to  return  altogether  empty. 
Hence  also  our  anxiety  to  place  the  same  record  of  many  a 
divine  message  to  guilty  man  in  the  hands  of  the  heathen : 
not  from  any  bigoted  dogma  that  the  God  and  Father  of  all 
consolation  will  bum  his  children  for  not  knowing  what  they 
were  never  taught ;  but  from  a  perception,  that  the  record  of 
the  holy  words  of  prophets  and  evangelists  has  a  natural 
tendency  to  awaken  whatever  is  good  in  man,  and  so  (if  prop- 

♦  This  intcrroj^ative  rendering  is  grammatically  as  probable  as  the 
common  one,  aiid,  in  sequence  of  Uiought,  more  so.  [The  commoa 
▼orsioD  of  this  text  seems  to  me  more  correct;  the  coadition  of  repeat* 
•aco  being  implied.  —  G.  R.  N.J 


HOLY    SCRIPTUHE.  121 

erly  used)  to  help  forward  the  moral  restoration  of  a  fallen 
nature.  Thus  then  we  believe  with  the  Apostle,  that  what- 
ever things  were  written  aforetime,  were  written  for  our  in- 
struction. 

There  is,  yet  further,  however,  a  distinct  (but  kindred) 
feature  in  the  Hebrew  prophets,  which  stamps  their  writings 
with  peculiar  value.  It  is  that  dim  yet  undoubting  anticipa- 
tion of  a  more  perfect  way  than  any  commonly  known  in 
their  age,  which  was  to  be  revealed  when  the  Hope  of  Israel 
should  come.  In  other  words,  it  is  that  foreboding  of  One 
anointed  with  the  Holy  Spirit  and  with  power,  which  may 
especially  be  termed  the  spirit  of  prophecy ;  and  in  virtue  of 
which  we  ascribe  to  its  possessors  a  more  than  ordinarily 
large  measure  of  (that  sacred  impulse,  which  may  be  de- 
scribed as)  inspiration.  We  do  not  indeed  assert,  that  the 
Hebrew  prophets  knew  precisely  what  manner  of  salvation 
they  foretold ;  for  they  often  shadow  it  forth  under  such  tem- 
poral deliverances,  as  to  make  the  literal  or  Jewish  intei*pre- 
tation  of  their  predictions  not  altogether  unreasonable.  Nor, 
indeed,  do  they  themselves  make  any  claim  to  omniscience. 
The  word  of  the  Lord  comes  to  their  heart  or  conscience  for 
a  particular  purpose,  and  they  speak  it ;  but  where  their  own 
faculties  and  usual  means  of  information  can  come  into  play, 
they  naturally  exercise  them.  Thus  their  language  is  simple 
Hebrew,  and  only  when  they  reach  Babylon,  Chaldaic ;  the 
countries  which  they  describe  are  those  adjoining  their  own  ; 
their  general  range  of  knowledge  is  that  of  their  age ;  in 
short,  the  circumscribed  limits  of  their  horizon  stand  out  at 
every  turn.  Still  amidst  this  imperfect  knowledge  we  find 
those  accents  which  stir  the  heart  Hke  the  sound  of  a  trumpet, 
foretelling  with  the  strongest  confidence  the  ultimate  triumph 
of  pure  religion,  the  springing  of  a  righteous  Branch  out  of 
the  stem  of  Jesse,  and  the  reign  of  a  King  who  should  execute 
justice  and  mercy.  New  virtues,  they  say,  shall  flourish  with 
this  new  dispensation ;  the  nations  shall  not  learn  war  any 
more ;  the  sacrifice  of  the  (human)  heart  shall  be  counted 
above  that  of  buUs  and  oxen. 
11 


122  HOLT   SCRIPTURE. 

Although  then  some  circumstances  in  the  description  of 
God's  First-bom  and  Elect,  by  whom  this  change  is  to  be 
accomplished,  may  primarily  apply  to  collective  Israel,  [many 
others  *  will  admit  of  no  such  application.  Israel  surely  was 
not  the  child  whom  a  virgin  was  to  bear ;  Israel  did  not  make 
his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  his  death ; 
Israel  scarcely  reconciled  that  strangely  blended  variety  of 
suffering  and  triumph  which  was  predicted  of  the  Messiah.] 

But  however  that  may  be,  it  is  indisputable  that  a  change 
has  partly  come  about,  and  is  still  partly  proceeding ;  such  as 
these  ancient  seers  foretold.  There  is  a  growing  society  in 
the  world,  which,  though  ever  lashed  by  stormy  waves,  seems 
still  founded  on  a  rock.  Its  members  own  as  their  Head  one 
whom  they  hail  as  Prince  of  peace ;  an  anointed  one,  a  first- 
bom,  and  an  elect,  —  a  Person,  in  whose  mysterious  unity 
they  are  able  to  combine  things  which  might  have  been 
deemed  incompatible :  majesty  and  weakness,  grace  and  awe, 
suffering  and  conquering,  death  and  immortality,  frail  man 
and  perfect  God.  f  In  him  the  mystery  is  unveiled,  the  riddle 
is  read  aright.  In  his  kingdom  men  are  exalted  by  humility, 
triumphant  by  patience,  immortal  by  death :  and  to  this  his 
city  not  built  with  hands  we  are  now  taught  by  the  interpret- 
ing revolution  of  events  to  apply  what  Isaiah  spake  of  his 
ideal  Sion  :  "  Arise,  shine ;  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee.  For,  behold,  the  dark- 
ness shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people : 
but  the  Lord  shall  arise  upon  thee,  and  his  glory  shall  be 
seen  upon  thee.  And  the  Gentiles  shall  come  to  thy  light, 
and  kings  to  the  brightness  of  thy  rising." 

Thus,  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  the  world  has  seen  the 
grand  anticipations  of  those  who  worshipped  Jehovah  in  a 
little  comer  of  the  world,  fulfilled  in  a  sense  more  magnificent 

♦  I  no  lonpcr  feel  confident  of  the  nsscrtion  in  brackets  ;  but  now  bo- 
Hcve  that  all  the  prophecies  have  primarily  an  application  nearly  con- 
tcmporancoas.  —  Febmary  11,  1855. 

t  This  appears  to  mo  to  be  tme  only  in  the  sense  that  the  moral  chap> 
actcr  of  the  Deity  is  discerned  in  "  the  fiice  of  Jesas  Christ."  •»  0  R.  N. 


HOLY    SCRIPTURE.  123 

than  they  themselves  expected.  Perhaps  indeed  this  gift  of 
foresight  is  not  really  more  excellent  or  desirable  than  such  a 
keen  perception  of  the  truths  which  concern  our  peace  as  we 
have  already  found  in  the  Old  Testament.  Nor  dare  I  say 
that  the  one  has  not  been  sometimes  confounded  with  the 
other.  Yet  this  gift  of  prediction,  as  distinct  from  predica- 
tion, is  ^  remarkable  a  quality  as  to  invest  the  prophetical 
writings  (according,  at  least,  to  the  more  received  view  of 
them)  with  a  character  almost  unique,  and  to  furnish  a  dis- 
tinct ground  for  the  Apostle's  holding,  that  "  whatever 
things  were  written  aforetime  were  written  for  our  instruc- 
tion." 

But  if  for  his  instruction,  brethren,  who  had  seen  the  Lord 
Jesus,  much  more  for  that  of  those  whose  lot  is  cast  in  later 
days.  We,  too,  like  St.  Paul,  may  have  our  hearts  warmed 
by  whatever  is  glowing  and  excellent  in  the  older  writers ; 
we,  like  him,  may  trace  the  great  stream  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, and  admire  the  unconscious  prefigurements  of  the  great 
Teacher  of  t|ie  world ;  we,  moreover,  unlike  him,  may  gather 
corresponding  instruction  from  his  own  writings  also,  and  from 
those  of  his  companions  in  the  ministry  of  the  word.  For 
though  these  later  writings  are  scarcely  comprised  in  the 
Scriptural  canon  to  which  our  Saviour  appealed,  yet  they 
come  from  men  who  had  the  best  opportunities  of  informa- 
tion ;  who  had  seen  the  Son  of  God  incarnate,  and  had  been 
animated  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  descending ;  who  also, 
in  the  power  of  what  they  believed,  either  from  eyesight  or 
from  credible  testimony,  converted  kingdoms,  and  built  up 
the  Church  of  Christ  on  the  ruins  of  the  gigantic  power  which 
they  overthrew.  Either  the  Apostles  therefore  understood 
Christianity,  or  else  no  one  did.  And  now,  suppose  St.  John 
or  St.  Peter  were  at  present  to  reappear  on  earth,  with  what 
eager  and  devout  curiosity  should  not  we  appeal  to  either  of 
them  in  our  controversies,  and  entreat  him  to  clear  up  our 
difficulties !  Who  would  deny  his  narrative  of  some  miracle 
of  our  Lord's,  or  dispute  his  opinion  as  to  what  was  pure  and 
undefiled  religion?    But  then  may  we  not  say,  that  such  a 


124  HOLT   SCRIPTURE. 

power  of  appeal  is  already  in  our  hands  ?  St  John  writing 
cannot  be  less  trustworthy  than  St  John  preaching.  In 
neither  case  could  he  be  termed  omniscient;  in  both  cases 
men  might  carry  away  a  wrong  conception  of  his  meaning ; 
yet  surely  in  both  we  ought  (as  Christians)  to  award  him  and 
his  fellows  a  respectful  and  candid  hearing.  On  this  ground 
then,  that  the  Apostles  generally  saw  our  Lord,  an<J  had  the 
best  means  of  information  as  to  his  religion,  their  writings 
seem  to  be  properly  added  to  those  of  the  Old  Testament 
which  they  explain.  They  were  men,  indeed,  compassed 
with  infirmities  like  ourselves,  and  they  professed  only  to 
know  in  part,  and  to  prophesy  in  part  Yet  God  has  not 
given  us  any  higher  written  authority,  and  the  highest  which 
he  has  given  must  be  sufficient  for  our  salvation.  But  why 
reason  from  theory  ?  Search  rather  their  writings  in  prac- 
tice, brethren,  and  you  will  find  them  sufficient  for  your  peace. 
If  indeed  you  disdain  rational  and  proper  helps,  such  as  a  com- 
petent knowledge  of  the  original  tongues,  and  of  the  customs, 
manners,  and  modes  of  thought  of  the  persoip  using  them, 
you  may  stumble  grievously  in  this,  as  in  any  other  inquiry. 
You  may  then,  if  both  unlearned  and  also  unstable,  wrest  the 
Scriptures  to  your  own  destruction.  But  if  you  are  content 
to  start  with  such  a  key  as  the  Church  puts  into  your  hands 
in  the  form  of  the  three  primitive  creeds,  or  of  the  English 
prayer-book  generally,  you  cannot  go  greatly  wrong,  even 
in  speculation.  And  if  you  use  the  Scriptures,  as  they  were 
intended  to  be  used,  chiefly  for  warning,  for  encouragement, 
for  consolation,  you  will  find  them  the  Book  of  books,  —  a 
shrine  from  whence  light  will  stream  on  your  path,  and  an 
oracle  whose  words  will  be  comfort  to  your  soul. 

For,  af\er  all  difficulties  which  may  be  raised,  and  all  dis- 
tinctions which  must  be  made,  these  Hebrew  and  Christian 
Scriptures  seem  likely  ever  to  constitute  the  book  dearest  to 
the  downcast  and  tlie  contrite, —  to  tlie  bereaved,  the  outcast, 
and  the  Magdalene,  —  to  all  them  that  are  stricken  or  afilicted 
in  mind,  body,  or  estate.  So  Collins,  a  man  of  the  rarest 
genius  and  largest  endowments,  solacod  the  lucid  intervals  of 


HOLT   SCRIPTURE.  125 

an  overwrought  and  shattered  intellect  with  one  book,  —  "  it 
was  the  best"  he  said,  —  and  it  was  the  Bible.  So  many  a 
soul  stricken  with  remorse  has  been  lured  back  to  the  way 
of  life;  and  so  (what  after  all,  believe  me,  is  far  better) 
many  a  pure  spirit  has  been  strengthened  to  preserve  its  gar- 
ments of  fine  linen  unspotted  through  life,  and  so  entered 
without  doubt  into  an  inheritance  undefiled. 

Lastly,  from  the  same  source,  we  ever  may  derive  strength 
to  resign  those  whom  we  love  best  into  the  hands  of  a  merci- 
ful Creator  and  Redeemer ;  not  fearing  also  ourselves,  when 
God  shall  call  us,  to  answer,  "Even  so.  Lord:  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  thy  sight.  Now  therefore  into  thy  hands  we 
commend  our  spirits ;  for  thou  hast  redeemed  us  O  thou 
God  of  Truth." 


11  • 


SERVANTS  OF  GOD  SPEAKING  AS  MOVED 
BY  THE  HOLY  GHOST.* 

By  ROWLAND  WILLIAMS,  B.  D., 

FELLOW   AND  FORMERLY  TCTTOR  OF  KING'S  COLLEGK,  CAMBRIDGE,  AND  PROFE880B  0» 
HEBREW  AT  LAHPETBR. 


**  Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were  mo^ed  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  — 
2  Peter  i.  21. 

ISO  long  as  the  religion  of  Christ  is  recommended  only  by 
the  inherent  weight  of  its  ideas,  it  stands  on  nearly  the  same 
ground  as  the  sentiments  of  justice  or  of  right,  if  considered 
prior  to  their  being  exemplified  in  history,  or  embodied  in 
law. 

Few  minds,  we  may  hope,  are  so  brutishly  depraved  as 
not  to  acknowledge  their  neighbor's  right  to  his  own  life,  to 
the  fruit  of  his  labor,  and  to  fair  dealing  in  all  social  trans- 
actions, if  only  the  conceptions  of  those  things  are  brought 
calmly  and  deliberately  within  cognizance  of  their  thought. 
But  yet  the  naked  idea  of  justice  is  not  found  powerful  to 
restrain  men's  actions  with  anything  like  the  dominion  which 
it  is  capable  of  acquiring  when  its  principles  have  been  em- 
bodied in  law,  transgression  of  them  forbidden  by  penalty, 
and  instances  of  their  operation  in  all  the  transactions  of  life 

*  Preached  before  the  University  of  Cambridge  [Eng.],  on  the  Second 
Sunday  in  Advent,  December,  1854. 


128  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING  AS 

recorded  and  set  forth  in  the  liistory  of  a  nation.  So  far, 
indeed,  as  the  subjects  of  a  realm  are  concerned,  the  authority 
which  practically  binds  them  is  not  that  of  the  abstract  senti- 
ment of  justice,  but  the  positive  law  of  the  land. 

A  man  is  not  permitted  to  argue  that  his  conception  of 
justice  gives  him  a  social  claim ;  it  is  law  which  must  ratify 
that  claim,  define  its  measure,  and  lay  down  the  metliod  of 
cnlbrcing  it.  There  is  nothing  in  our  own  land  so  lofty,  and 
not  many  things  so  minute,  as  not  to  fall  within  the  range  of 
positive  and  written  law.  But  yet  this  law,  which  gives 
majesty  to  the  sceptre,  and  edge  to  the  sword,  extending  its 
ample  shield  over  the  lives  of  subject  millions,  and  enforcing 
even  for  its  own  errors  a  sacredness  which  the  wisest  are  the 
slowest  to  dispute,  has  behind  it  and  underneath  it  a  power 
greater  than  its  own.  For  it  is  itself  the  creature  of  human 
thought ;  the  ever-growing  and  often-varying  embodiment  of 
the  conceptions  of  mankind  ;  and  although  legislators,  judges, 
and  reformers,  or  even  martyrs  in  the  cause  of  freedom,  may 
have  spoken  it  of  old,  as  they  were  moved  by  the  providence 
and  the  Spirit  of  God,  teaching  them  either  through  experi- 
ence or  through  impulse,  yet  it  is  often  marked  by  the  imper- 
fections of  its  time.  The  vessels  in  which  the  great  treasure 
of  the  desire  of  justice  was  embodied,  may  have  been  vessels 
of  earth  ;  and  if  jt  is  to  retain  its  hold  upon  advancing  gen- 
erations, it  must  purify  itself  ever  by  contact  with  the  living 
fountains  of  justice ;  must  adapt  its  interpretation  to  new 
exigencies  of  social  life ;  and  must  beware  lest,  by  supersti- 
tious tenacity  of  the  letter,  any  violence  be  done  to  the  spirit, 
—  even  to  that  sense  of  righteousness  in  man,  which  is  ever 
being  trained  upward,  to  realize  the  unwritten  word  of  God. 

Now  we  may  very  reasonably  say,  that  to  ourselves,  as 
members  of  the  Church  of  England,  the  great  standard  of 
theological  doctrine  must  be  tliat  volume  of  Holy  Scriptures 
which  embodies  the  experience  of  the  Church  of  old ;  the 
record  of  her  revelations,  and  the  tnulition  of  her  spiritual 
life  ;  the  transfusion,  as  it  were,  of  her  spirit  into  writing ; 
which  also  the  Church  of  our  own  land  has  stamped  with 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  129 

authority,  by  adopting  it  as  her  written  law.  There  are  many 
obvious  advantages  in  having  so  easy  a  court  of  appeal :  an 
authority  which  teaches  by  example  as  well  as  by  precept ;  a 
judge  not  biassed  by  our  controversies  of  the  day  ;  and  a 
record  extending  over  a  sufficiently  ample  range  of  time  for 
questions  of  all  kinds  to  have  found  in  it  a  practical  solution, 
—  for  the  blessings  of  innocence,  and  for  the  judgments  which 
wait  on  crime,  to  have  been  each  very  signally  exemplified ; 
and  for  the  often-contending  (though  they  ought  to  be  har- 
monious) claims  of  king  and  priest  and  people,  of  power  and 
weakness,  of  wealth  and  poverty,  to  have  each  had  a  limit 
assigned  to  them ;  —  a  sentence,  as  it  were,  having  been 
passed  upon  them  by  that  experience  of  generations  which 
expresses  the  verdict  of  the  great  Ruler  of  the  world.  More- 
over, it  must  be  noticed,  that  Scripture  will  have  a  greater 
sacredness  than  law,  because  it  deals  with  a  subject-matter 
still  more  sacred ;  and  although  the  relations  which  the  two 
bear  to  the  thing  written  about  may  be  the  same,  yet  since 
the  subjects  are  different,  the  writings  will  also  differ. 

Yet  it  ought  ever  to  be  acknowledged,  that  this  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, which  all  members  of  our  Church  so  justly  regard  with 
veneration,  has  also  something  behind  it  deeper*  and  far 
holier  still ;  and  if  that  spirit  by  which  holy  men  spake  of 
old  is  for  ever  a  living  and  a  present  power,  its  later  lessons 
may  well  transcend  its  earlier ;  and  there  may  reside  in  the 
Church  a  power  of  bringing  out  of  her  treasury  things  new 
as  well  as  things  old. 

If  it  had  been  the  will  of  Almighty  God,  we  cannot  doubt 
his  power  to  have  instructed  mankind  by  pouring  before  their 
gaze  from  the  beginning  all  the  treasures  of  his  providence, 
and  all  the  wonders  of  his  grace.  But  it  has  pleased  Him, 
who  doeth  all  things  well,  to  train  up  his  Israel  as  a  child,  and 
to  make  the  experience  of  bygone  generations  a  landmark  for 

*  To  deny  this,  is  to  deny  Christ  far  more  utterly  than  the  Galatians 
did  ;  and  for  any  one  to  call  such  sayings  an  inversion  of  the  groundwork 
of  Christianity,  only  shows  the  urgent  need  there  is  for  servants  of  God 
to  preach  them. 


130  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING   AS 

those  who  were  to  come.  There  was  a  time  when  as  yet  the 
Bible  was  not,  and  we  must  not  think  that  it  was  necessary 
to  salvation.  For  the  Spirit  of  God  may  have  then  striven 
with  men ;  possibly  even  his  Eternal  OiFspring,  the  not  yet 
Incarnate  Word,  may  have  preached  through  the  movements 
of  conscience,  and  through  words  of  warning,  in  the  days  of 
Noah.  Certainly  Enoch  may  have  walked  with  God ;  Mel- 
chisedec  may,  in  the  sanctity  of  a  Gentile  priesthood,  have 
blessed  Abraham ;  the  faith  of  the  patriarch  in  One  who 
was  his  shield  and  his  exceeding  great  reward,  may  have 
been  counted  to  him  as  righteousness ;  and  all  these,  and 
others  whom  no  man  can  number,  may  have  been  gathered  to 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  if  not  before  any  records 
existed,  at  least  centuries  before  the  earliest  of  our  sacred 
books  took  their  present  form. 

But  when  the  patriarchs  have  grown  into  twelve  tribes, 
they  are  become  a  nation,  and  a  nation  must  have  a  history  ; 
when  they  come  out  from  the  house  of  bondage,  and  conquer 
a  new  land,  the  Author  of  their  deliverance,  and  the  Giver 
of  their  conquest,  must  have  his  wondrous  works  recorded ; 
when  they  have  law,  which  is  to  be  enforced  by  human  rulers, 
though  with  reference  to  the  Divine  Ruler,  it  must  be  written 
in  some  express  form ;  or,  just  as  man,  because  he  has  the 
gift  of  reason,  will  utter  speech  with  meaning,  so  the  nation, 
because  thoughts  are  stirring  in  its  breast,  must  have  a  voice 
to  speak  forth  the  national  mind ;  and  if  the  life  which  ani- 
mates its  thoughts  be  truly  religious,  the  words  which  are 
their  utterance  must  be  sacred  words.  Thus,  where  there  is  a 
church,  there  must  be  a  Bible  or  a  liturgy ;  where  there  is  a 
true  temple,  there  will  be  solemn  psalms ;  where  decay  or 
formalism  creeps  over  the  servants  of  the  sanctuary,  if  the 
spirit  of  God  has  compassion  on  his  people  to  awaken  them, 
there  will  arise  prophets,  whose  protest  will  be  couched  in 
accents  pregnant  with  eternal  truth  ;  who  will  say  to  the  dry 
bones,  **  Live,"  and  to  the  prostrate  Church,  "  Stand  upon 
tliy  feet." 

Thus,  although  man   is  gathered   to  his  fathers,   yet,  as 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  131 

nations  and  churches  represent,  throughout  fleeting  genera- 
tions, the  everlasting  providence  and  spirit  of  God,  so  it  is 
probable  they  will  strive  to  prevent  their  best  thoughts  from 
being  swept  into  forgetfulness ;  and  they  will,  by  writing,  give 
a  permanent  shape  to  their  record  of  things  temporal,  and 
to  their  perception  of  things  divine. 

Then,  again,  if  the  destined  course  of  the  world  be  really 
one  of  providential  progress,  if  there  has  been  such  a  thing 
as  a  childhood  of  humanity,  and  if  God  has  been  educating 
either  a  nation  or  a  church  to  understand  their  duty  to  him- 
self and  to  mankind ;  it  must  follow,  that,  when  the  fulness  of 
light  is  come,  there  will  be  childish  things  to  put  away.  Not 
(indeed)  that  any  part  will  have  been  useless  in  its  day ; 
perhaps  a  certain  unalterableness  of  spirit  may  run  through 
every  link  of  the  chain.  Yet,  if  the  chain  is  one  of  living 
men,  each  link  must  have  a  freedom  of  expansion,  and  there 
will  be  a  power  of  modifying  mere  circumstance  very  differ- 
ent from  the  bare  continuity  of  inanimate  things.  Hence,  if 
the  religious  records  represent  faitlifuUy  the  inner  life  of  each 
generation,  whether  a  people  or  a  priesthood,  they  will  all  be, 
in  St.  Paul's  phrase,  divinely  animated,  or  with  a  divine  life 
running  through  them  ;  and  every  writing  divinely  animated 
will  be  useful ;  yet  they  may,  or  rather  they  must,  be  cast  in 
the  mould  of  the  generation  in  which  they  were  wi'itten; 
their  words,  if  they  are  true  words,  will  express  the  customs 
of  their  country,  the  conceptions  of  their  times,  the  feelings 
or  aspirations  of  their  writers ;  and  the  measure  of  knowledge 
or  of  faith  to  which  every  one,  in  his  degree,  had  attained. 
And  the  limitation,  thus  asserted,  of  their  range  of  knowl- 
edge, will  be  equally  true,  whether  we  suppose  the  short^com- 
ing  to  be,  on  an  idea  of  special  Providence,  from  a  particular 
dictation  of  sentimen'^  vs.  each  case ;  or  whether,  on  the  more 
reasonable  view  of  a  general  Providence,  we  consider  such 
things  permitted  rather  than  directed ;  the  natural  result  of  a 
grand  scheme,  rather  than  a  minute  arrangement  of  thoughts 
and  words  for  each  individual  man.  It  may  be  that  the 
Lord  writes  the  Bible,  on 'the  same  principle  as  the  Lord 


132  SERVANTS    OP    GOD    SPEAKING   AS 

builds  the  city ;  or  that  he  teaches  the  Psalmist  to  sing,  in 
the  same  sense  as  he  teaches  his  fingers  to  fight ;  thus  that 
the  composition  of  Scripture  is  attributed  to  the  Almighty, 
just  as  sowing  and  threshing  are  said  to  be  taught  by  him ;  * 
for  every  part  played  by  man  comes  from  the  Divine  Dis- 
poser of  the  scene. 

By  some  such  process,  however,  as  has  above  been  sketched, 
it  has  pleased  the  Giver  of  all  wisdom  to  bring  about  for  us 
through  his  providence  the  writing  of  these  sacred  books, 
which  comprehend  (1.)  the  literature  of  the  Hebrew  people, 
(2.)  the  oracles  of  Jehovah's  priesthood,  and  (3.)  the  expe- 
rience of  the  apostles  of  Christ. 

For  such  seems  to  be  a  division  under  which  we  may 
naturally  class  those  many  voices  of  the  Church  of  God,  or 
those  records  of  the  spiritual  convictions  of  the  great  society 
in  which  the  fear  of  the  Lord  has  been  inherited  from  gen- 
eration to  generation,  the  aggregate  of  which  books  we  call 
the  Bible.  Shall  we  venture  to  glance  at  each  of  these 
divisions  in  turn?  We  claim  for  the  oldest  of  our  sacred 
books  an  antiquity  of  perhaps  fifteen  hundred  years  before 
the  Christian  era.  But  the  external  evidence  for  their  ex- 
istence can  hardly  be  said  to  extend  over  more  than  half 
that  period.  For  all  the  earlier  half,  we  rely  chiefly  upon 
the  contents  of  the  books  themselves.  Nor  can  we  even 
appreciate  this  kind  of  evidence  without  a  certain  freedom  of 
investigation,  which  proceeds  upon  what  HooKer  assumes  as 
the  primary  revelation  of  the  human  understanding.  Yet 
from  this  kind  of  evidence  we  are  able,  for  a  large  part  of  the 
earlier  books,  to  prove  an  origin  of  very  high  antiquity. 
Partly,  the  language  agrees  with  what  the  date  requires ;  as 
in  the  earlier  books  of  the  Pentateuch  there  are  Egyptian 
words ;  partly,  the  manners  agree,  whether  we  glance  at  the 
ancient  castes  of  Egypt,  as  attested  by  her  monumental 
stones,  or  at  the  wandering  tents  of  the  patriarchal  tribes ; 
partly,  again,  the  general  scenery  is  true  in  character ;  and, 

•  Isaiah  xxriU.  29-29. 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLY  GHOST.  133 

Btill  more  decisively,  the  general  tone  of  feeling,  and  the  men- 
tal horizon,  as  it  were,  of  the  writers,  is  exactly  what  we 
should  expect,  as  in  due  proportion  to  the  age  in  which  their 
lot  was  cast.  Only,  it  must  be  added,  that  all  these  proofs  of 
genuineness  are  also  equally  proofs  of  a  positive  hraitation  to 
the  range  of  knowledge.  We  cannot  in  9ne  moment  say, 
these  books  were  written  in  such  an  age  because  they  have 
the  knowledge  of  that  age,  and  in  the  next  moment  argue  that 
they  have  a  divine  omniscience,  and  therefore  were  dictated, 
or,  as  it  were,  dropped  from  heaven ;  for  this  would  be,  with 
the  greatest  inconsistency,  to  destroy  our  own  argument  and 
to  introduce  miracle,  where  we  have  been  assuming  the  faith- 
fulness of  God's  providence ;  as  if  we  said,  that  the  rain  * 
and  the  sunshine  are  a  contradiction  to  those  laws  of  the  Au- 
thor of  Nature  which  seem  intended  expressly  to  guide  them. 
Here,  therefore,  both  for  the  above  reasons,  and  for  others 
to  be  mentioned  hereafter,  let  me  in  all  humility  protest 
against  that  unwise  exaggeration  which  makes  the  entire 
Bible  a  transcript  of  the  Divine  omniscience,  or  a  word  of 
God  for  all  time,  without  due  reference  to  the  circumstances 
and  to  the  range  of  knowledge  of  those  holy  men  who  spake 
of  old.  The  writers,  after  all,  are  men  ;  and  the  condition  of 
mankind  is  imperfection.  They  were  holy  men  and  servants 
of  God ;  but  yet  all  human  holiness  and  all  human  service 
is  only  comparative,  and  a  thing  of  degree.  They  spake ; 
but  speech  is  the  organ  of  thought ;  therefore  there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  Scripture  but  what  was  first  in  the  mind  of  the 
scribe.  Nihil  est  in  Scripto,  quod  non  prius  in  Scriptore, 
They  spake  of  old ;  but  all  old  times  represent,  as  it  were, 
the  childhood  of  the  human  race,  and  therefore  had  childish 
things,  which  we  must  put  away.  The  Holy  Ghost  was  their 
teacher;  but  the  province  of  this  eternal  Agent  in  our  re- 
demption is  not  to  give  knowledge  of  earthly  facts,  which  we 
know  by  the  providence  of  the  Father,  nor  yet  to  give  a  new 
revelation  of  things  heavenly,  which  we  know  by  the  positive 

*  Dr.  Powell  of  St.  John's. 
12 


134  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING    A3 

incarnation  of  the  Son ;  but  the  province  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  rather  to  quicken  our  conceptions  of  things  otherwise 
known ;  to  hallow  our  impulses,  restrain  our  wanderings,  and 
guide  our  steps  in  those  paths  which  the  Father  and  the  Son 
have  already  laid  down  for  us  to  walk  in. 

But  let  no  one  therefore  suppose  that  this  limitation  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  sacred  writers  should  lessen  the  sacredness, 
or  destroy  to  us  the  usefulness,  of  that  Uterature  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  measure  of  its  time,  the  Church  of  God  spake 
of  old.  "We  may  receive  the  message  of  the  servants  as  true 
without  for  a  moment  dreaming  that  the  great  Master  had 
communicated  to  them  all  the  knowledge  of  his  eternal  plan. 
We  may  acknowledge  the  history  a  very  wonderful  one,  be- 
cause the  events  which  it  records  were  fii*st  wonderful.  On 
the  same  principle  as  the  very  structure  of  the  Hebrew  sen- 
tence is  a  written  echo  of  the  chant  of  the  temple,  so  that 
acknowledgment  of  the  living  God,  which  they  whom  the 
nations  despise,  and  Christians  often  misrepresent,  have  held 
fast  amidst  a  thousand  persecutions,  runs  throughout  their 
history  as  a  memorial  of  the  mighty  works  of  Jehovah  in  the 
land  of  Ham,  and  by  the  Red  Sea. 

Without  here  venturing  upon  the  very  debatable  ground 
of  where  miracle  begins  and  where  providence  ends,  or 
without  determining  (what  perhaps  is  by  no  means  so  impor- 
tant as  many  may  suppose)  how  much  we  ought  strictly  to 
assign  to  each,  we  may  safely  say,  the  entire  history,  or  litera- 
ture, is  one  which  seems  destined  to  be  the  handmaid  of  true 
religion  in  the  world.  Just  as  the  ancient  Greek  manifested 
the  sensitiveness  of  his  organization  and  the  activity  of  his 
mind  by  a  literature  moulded  in  beauty  and  full  of  specula- 
tion ;  and  as  the  Roman,  whose  mission  it  was  to  civilize  the 
world  with  law,  spoke  the  firm  language  of  history  and  ot 
manly  virtue ;  so  the  Hebrew,  liaving  been  wonderfully 
trained,  laid  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians  at  the  feet  of  Je- 
hovah ;  he  looked  upon  the  earth  and  its  fulness,  and  he  said 
aloud,  "  It  is  the  Ix)rd's " ;  he  saw  kings  reign,  and  he  felt 
tliat  One  mightier  than  they  had  set  fast  their  thrones ;  he 


MOVED    BY   THE   HOLT    GHOST.  135 

heard  of  his  fathers  migrating,  and  marrying,  and  burying 
their  dead  in  a  strange  land  ;  and  he  felt  that  not  one  of  these 
things  was  disregarded  in  the  sight  of  Him  who  teacheth  the 
wild-fowl  their  course  through  the  heaven,  and  who  uphold- 
eth  also  our  steps  in  life :  or  he  bowed  in  the  sanctuary  on 
Mount  Zion ;  and,  as  the  question  arose,  "  Who  shall  ascend 
into  the  hill  of  the  Lord,  or  stand  in  his  holy  place  ? "  the 
Spirit  of  God  within  him  made  answer,  "  He  that  hath  clean 
hands  and  a  pure  heart ;  that  hath  not  spoken  the  name  of 
Jehovah  over  falsehood,  nor  sworn  to  deceive  his  neighbor.'* 

Thus,  in  short,  the  spirit  which  runs  through  the  literature 
of  the  Hebrews  is  eminently  a  religious  spirit ;  in  their  his- 
tory, and  in  their  proverbs,  and  in  the  common  stories  of  the 
people,  though  these  may  have  been  moulded  somewhat  in 
Oriental  form,  there  is  a  true  reference  of  all  things  to  the 
will  of  a  righteous  Lord. 

But,  still  more  emphatically,  the  same  character  applies  to 
the  direct  utterances  of  the  great  teachers  of  righteousness ; 
to  the  oracular  songs  of  the  Temple,  and  to  the  kindling  ac- 
cents in  which  the  prophets  woke  the  conscience  of  their 
compatriots,  as  they  denounced  the  fierce  anger  of  a  Judge 
long  provoked  by  incurable  sin.  There  priest  and  prophet 
go  harmoniously  hand  in  hand ;  so  that  the  attempts  of  the 
assailants  of  church  polity  to  sever  their  functions  are  but 
vain.  It  is  the  province  of  the  priest,  not  only  to  teach  the 
difference  between  the  holy  and  the  profane,  but  also  that  his 
lips  should  keep  knowledge  ;  and  again,  however  earnestly 
the  prophet  may  cry  aloud  for  reformation  of  heart,  he  yet 
never  ceases  to  maintain  the  sacredness  of  whatever  has 
had  spoken  over  it  the  holy  name  of  the  Most  High. 

Only  we  cannot  judge  either  one  or  the  other  truly,  unless 
we  regard  them  in  the  closest  connection  with  the  history  of 
the  people  among  whom  they  are  written.  For  they  are  not 
so  much  a  word  of  God,  externally  dropping  from  heaven,  as 
a  true  confession  to  God,  responding  from  the  heart  of  man. 
Both  the  deep  sighing  of  passionate  devotion,  and  the  fervent 
trust  in  a  deliverer  out  of  national  bondaire,  vf  ould  lose  half 


136  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKmG   AS 

their  value,  unless  we  believed  that  they  came  from  men  who 
prayed  earnestly  for  themselves ;  who  had  tasted  the  rod  of 
the  oppressor ;  and  who  were  concerned  about  the  realities 
of  their  own  mind  and  their  own  time.  But  why  should  not 
their  devout  sayings,  and  all  the  heroic  deeds  of  trust,  or  love, 
or  magnanimity,  serve  to  the  same  end  in  religion,  as  the  his- 
tory of  kingdoms  in  politics,  and  the  strains  of  poetry  in  edu- 
cation, without  our  presuming  to  assign  to  the  writers  an  in- 
fallibility which  they  never  claim  for  themselves  ?  We  may 
read  Moses,  not  for  his  physical  geography,  but  for  his  ten 
commandments  and  his  history.  We  may  read  the  book  of 
Joshua,  not  for  its  astronomy,  but  for  a  tremendous  example 
of  the  law  by  which  God  sweeps  corrupt  nations  from  the 
earth ;  we  may  find  in  Kings  and  Chronicles,  not  imaginary 
and  faultless  men,  but  subjects  of  Divine  providence,  instances 
of  Divine  teaching,  and  all  that  blending  of  interest  with  in- 
struction, which  the  history  of  a  devout  people,  told  with 
reference  to  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth,  is  ever  calculated 
to  afford.  We  may  also  fully  admit  the  unalterablenesa  of 
Scripture,  in  the  sense  that  deeds  truly  done  cannot  be  un- 
done, and  fixed  principles  cannot  be  changed ;  nor  would  it 
be  modest,  to  weigh  the  personal  authority  of  even  the  most 
spiritual  teacher  now,  against  that  of  the  Apostles  who  fol- 
lowed Christ ;  but  yet  we  need  not  suppose  that  the  arm  of 
the  Eternal  is  shortened,  or  that  his  Holy  Spirit  ever  ceases 
to  animate  the  devout  heart.  Above  all,  let  no  man  blunt  the 
edge  of  his  conscience,  by  praising  such  things  as  the  craft 
of  Jacob,  or  the  blood-stained  treachery  of  Jael ;  nor  let  the 
natural  metaphor,  by  which  men  call  a  sacred  record  "the 
word  of  God,"  ever  blind  us  to  the  fact,  that  no  text  haa 
been  found,  from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  in  which  this  holy 
name  is  made  a  synonyme  for  the  entire  volume  of  Scripture  ; 
but  rather,  the  spirit  is  often,  especially  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, put  in  opposition  to  the  letter,  and  the  living  word,  as 
for  instance  it  was  spoken  by  the  Apostles,  is  constantly  dis- 
tinguished from  the  written  tradition  of  the  days  of  oKL 
Most  commonly  in  the  New  Testament,  the  plirase  woid  of 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  137 

God  means  the  gospel  of  Christ,  or  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
Messiah  being  come.  It  should  also  be  noticed,  that,  while 
the  discoveries  of  modem  travellers  do  so  far  confirm  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  to  show  their  historical  char- 
acter, they  give  no  countenance  to  any  exaggerated  theory  of 
omniscience,  or  dictation,  but  rather  contravene  any  dream 
of  the  kind.  When  men  quote  discoveries  as  confirmations 
of  the  Bible,  they  should  consider  in  what  sense  and  how  far 
it  is  confirmed  by  them. 

And  now,  if  we  pass  on  to  the  experience  of  the  apostles 
of  Christ,  we  shall  find  ample  means  for  enabling  us  to  fix 
its  true  value  upon  the  record  of  Holy  Scripture.  However 
true  It  may  be,  that  we  know  less  of  the  individual  writers, 
and  of  the  precise  dates  of  the  three  earlier  Gospels,  than 
our  fathers  took  rather  for  granted,  yet  it  is  certain  that  they 
express  the  belief  and  the  preaching  of  the  Church  in  the 
first  century  of  the  Christian  era.  Thus,  instead  of  three 
men,  we  may  rather  appeal  to  the  united  testimony  of  the 
hundred  and  twenty  persons  who  constituted  the  infant 
Church  before  the  day  of  Pentecost. 

And  although  some  few  books,  such  as  the  Epistle  from 
which  our  text  is  taken,  have  their  authorship  reasonably 
called  in  question,  yet  modern  criticism  does,  on  grounds  of 
internal  evidence,  agree  very  closely  with  that  belief  as  to  the 
genuineness  of  the  Apostolic  writings  in  general,  which  the 
primitive  Church  adopted,  from  traditions  of  her  own.  (This, 
by  the  way,  is  an  instance  in  which  our  modem  freedom  of 
investigation  has  added  a  fresh  argument  to  our  evidence.) 

In  these  books,  then,  we  find  traces  of  a  new  spirit  in  the 
world.  We  have  the  thoughts  of  those  who  walked  with 
Christ,  and  heard  the  gracious  words  which  he  spake.  We 
have  the  simple  fervor  of  one  apostle ;  the  despondent  diffi- 
dence of  another ;  the  angelic  loveliness  and  the  love  of  a 
third ;  and,  above  all,  we  have  the  Judaic  learning,  the  awak- 
ened mind,  the  passionate  zeal,  the  practical  energy,  and  the 
combining  wisdom  of  St.  Paul.  The  Epistles  of  this  one 
writer  will  alone  prove  that,  whenever  our  Gospels  may  have 
12* 


138  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING    AS 

been,  perhaps,  moulded  out  of  the  famUiar  converse  of  tlie 
Apostles  into  their  present  form,  the  belief  in  our  Lord's 
resurrection  from  the  grave  was  at  least  current  long  before 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem. 

Now,  all  these  writers  of  the  New  Testament  appear  partly 
as  antagonists  of  the  Old,  and  partly  as  witnesses  who  confirm 
it.  Partly  they  are  antagonists,  for  even  the  doctrines  of 
Christ  find  fault  with  much  that  had  been  spoken  of  old.  He 
appeals  from  the  law  of  Moses  about  marriage  to  the  purer 
instinct  of  the  heart,  as  that  which  had  been  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  he  refuses  to  confirm  the  law  of  retahation ;  and  both 
he  and  his  apostles,  but  especially  St.  Paul,  turn  men's 
thoughts  from  the  tradition  of  the  wisdom  of  old  time,  which 
was  principally  enshrined  in  the  Bible,  to  that  life  of  the  soul 
which  comes  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  to  the  ever-expanding 
law  which  is  both  written  in  the  heart,  and  which  accumulates 
enactment  from  experience.  For  St.  Paul's  "  tradition  "  con- 
tains his  Hebrew  descent,  and  his  circumcision  on  the  eighth 
day,  with  many  other  things  which  had  been  purely  scrip- 
tural. They  had  all  been  written  in  the  volume  of  the  Book, 
and  yet  he  repudiates  them  all. 

Whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  call 
the  followers  of  Jesus  accursed  for  not  knowing  the  law ;  by 
which  they  mean  the  Scripture.  They  even  pride  themselves 
on  searcliing  the  Scriptures,  for  they  thought  that  therein 
they  had  eternal  life.  Yet  our  Lord  does  not  hesitate  to 
blame  them,  as  searching  the  Scriptures  in  vain. 

So  again,  St.  Paul  calls  the  Galatians  foolish  for  desiring 
to  be  under  the  law,  under  which  term  he  includes  the  book 
of  Genesis.  He  is  quite  in  accord  with  Jeremiah,  who  had 
prophesied  a  time  under  Christianity  when  the  word  of  God 
should  be  written,  not  in  book  or  stone,  but  on  the  fleshly 
tables  of  the  heart,  or  in  the  conscience  of  reasonable  beings. 
Yet,  it  is  true,  the  same  Apostle  thinks  that  the  Divine 
Teju^her  of  mankind  had  never  ceased  to  warn  his  Church 
of  old ;  and  that  by  the  great  principle  of  trust  in  an  unseen 
but  all-righteous  Guide,   he  had  led  its  members  from  the 


MOVED  Br  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  130 

beginning ;  and  hence  all  the  utterances  of  that  Church,  or 
the  traditions  of  the  Old  Testament,  are  divinely  animated ; 
they  are  written  for  our  instruction  ;  for  who  would  not  listen 
to  the  lessons  of  a  great  history  of  thought,  or  would  spurn  the 
hiheritance  of  his  ghostly  fathers  ?  And  thus  their  tendency  is 
to  make  the  servant  of  God  wise,  putting  him,  through  the 
medium  of  an  enlightened  understanding,  on  the  track  as  it 
were  of  Christian  salvation. 

Again,  while  the  writings  of  the  apostles  of  Christ  repre- 
sent chiefly  the  principle  of  the  living  spirit,  they  are  them- 
selves the  utterance  of  the  Church,  or  of  that  society  which  is 
the  habitation  of  the  ever-present  Spirit  of  God ;  and,  when 
duly  preserved,  they  are  capable  of  being  thems^ves  handed 
down  as  an  inheritance  or  a  tradition  ;  yet,  as  being  a  tradition 
of  a  spiritual  age,  they  may  become  witnesses,  either  for  sober 
history  against  vague  mysticism,  or  for  the  lively  inspiration 
of  the  heart  against  the  more  Hfeless  tradition  of  a  grosser 
and  more  formalized  age. 

What  blessed  lessons,  then,  may  we  not  derive,  if  we  are 
wise,  from  those  holy  books  ?  What  evidences  do  they  not 
afford  of  our  faith  !  They  do  not  merely  record,  so  much  as 
absolutely  talk  of  the  inspired  lives  of  the  men  who  indited 
them.  What  warning  do  they  not  utter,  as  with  a  trumpet's 
sound,  when  we,  forgetful  of  the  Rock  from  whence  we  are 
hewn,  become  negligent  in  the  work  of  the  Lord !  What 
comfort  do  they  not  breathe,  in  all  our  sorest  distress,  —  in 
our  perplexity  of  mind,  in  our  pain  of  body,  and  in  our  lowli- 
ness of  estate  !  By  cherishing  their  words  we  assimilate  our 
thoughts  to  the  minds  of  apostles,  and  saints,  and  martyrs ; 
casting,  as  it  were,  our  earth-bound  affections  over  again  in  a 
holier  mould,  and  so  drinking  of  the  deep  fountains  which 
have  their  source  in  the  well  of  life  beneath  the  throne  of  the 
majesty  of  God  our  Saviour. 

Let  no  man  be  ashamed,  if  the  page  on  which  such  words 
are  written  is  often  wet  with  his  tears  ;  or  if  theii*  fashion, 
though  in  many  things  it  be  temporal,  give  shape  and  voice 
to  his  deepest  thoughts  of  things  eternal.     Neither  intellect, 


140  SERVANTS    OP   GOD    SPEAKING   AS 

nor  humanity,  nor  devotion,  can  anywhere  be  better  purified 
and  strengthened  than  in  the  homely  page  either  of  our  fa- 
mihar  Prayer-book  or  of  our  Bible.  There  our  sorrow  and 
our  guilty  alarm  will  almost  inevitably  flee  for  comfort ;  and 
there,  if  we  are  wise,  we  shall  learn  in  time  to  disj^ipHne  our 
youth,  and  to  purify  our  joy. 

But  yet,  brethren,  let  no  inconsiderate  exaggeration,  and 
no  polemical  reaction  from  overstrained  claims  cf  the  Church 
of  Rome,  induce  us  to  mistake  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  or  of 
the  Cross  for  the  letter  of  the  Bible.  A  man  may  know  his 
Bible  by  heart,  and  yet  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  word  of  God. 
He  may  lay  stress  on  temporary  accidents,  such  as  anointing 
with  oil;  and  may  be  blind  to  eternal  principles,  such  as 
faith,  hope,  charity.  He  may  even  express  the  most  malig- 
nant passion  in  Scriptural  phrase,  as  if  truth  were  more  true, 
or  malice  were  less  hateful,  because  the  vehicle  in  which  it  is 
conveyed  may  be  of  Aramaic  form.  Thus  some  have  de- 
fended slavery  because  they  truly  observe  that  St.  Paul's 
epistles  do  defend  it,  and  even  condemn  attempts  to  abolish  it 
as  the  work  of  men  "  proud,  knowing  nothing."  *  Yet  it  is 
evident,  that  God  had  destined  slavery  to  flee  away  in  time 
before  the  principles  with  which  the  Gospel  is  pregnant. 
Thus  our  religion  is  one  thing,  and  the  books  which  record  it 
are  another.  Some,  again,  have  laid  unreasonable  stress  upon 
the  accidental  opposition  of  Christianity  to  the  governments 
and  religions  of  the  corrupt  generation  in  which  it  was  first 
founded ;  and  hence  many  irrational  arguments  against  kings 
and  priests ;  yet  it  is  evident  that  the  sacredness  of  the  office 
of  governor,  and  of  teacher,  and  of  rightful  minister  in  the 
sanctuary,  must  last  as  long  as  this  world  endures.  How 
many,  again,  with  most  unfair  sophistry,  distort  various  texts 
of  Scripture  in  order  to  force  them  unnatunilly  into  a  har- 
mony which  they  suppose  needful ;  whereas  the  very  idea  of 
a  divine  teaching,  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  Bible,  im- 
plies also  the  idea  of  progress,  and  makes  it  natural  for  the 

•  I  Tim.  vi.  S-4. 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLY  GHOST.  141 

newer  sentences  to  differ  from  the  old.  So,  again,  every  new 
science  has  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  opposition,  until,  after  forcing 
its  way  through  bitter  searchings  of  heart,  it  is  at  last  pre- 
tended to  be  in  harmony  with  those  texts  which  were  once 
(more  truly,  but  yet  quite  irrelevantly)  alleged  to  oppose  it. 
Time  would  fail  me  to  tell  of  Puritan  perverseness,  of  fanati- 
cism passing  into  tyranny,  of  science  persecuted,  reason  in- 
sulted, morality  depraved,  and  the  Gospel  of  Christ  congealed, 
mutilated,  and  clipped,  as  it  were,  of  its  wings,  because  men 
have  assumed  what  the  Bible  does  not  assume,  that  inspira- 
tion means  omniscience,  or  that  the  All-gracious  Father,  who 
taught  men  of  old,  has  his  unsleeping  eye  blinded  or  his  arm 
shortened,  so  that  he  can  teach  us  now  no  more.  But  per- 
haps no  single  study  has  suffered  so  much  from  this  cause 
as  the  interpretation  of  the  Bible  itself.  It  may,  however, 
be  suggested,  whether  devotion  also  has  not  suffered  some- 
what. For  although  the  Psalms  and  other  sacred  writings 
are  a  treasury  of  expressions  which  harmonize  admirably 
with  the  deepest  breathings  of  our  hearts ;  yet,  when  men 
compile  prayers  from  these  with  servile  imitation,  as  school- 
boys take  verses  from  the  poets,  the  spirit  of  devotion  is  apt 
to  be  exorcised.  And  this  is  one  reason  why  modern  prayers 
are  so  inferior  to  the  ancient  liturgies;  for  so  long  as  the 
Church  of  old  believed  in  the  real  presence  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  she  waxed  mighty  in  prayer  as  she  grew  rich  in  ex- 
perience ;  then  the  storehouse  of  her  liturgies,  became  heaped 
with  things  old,  and  yet  her  heart  ever  indited  good  matters 
that  were  new ;  and  from  those  fountains  the  stream  of  prayer 
has  flowed  into  all  lands,  until,  at  last,  our  bishops  and  pas- 
tors, as  if  they  despaired  of  the  promise  of  Christ,  would 
take  no  weapon  in  hand  that  had  not  been  hammered  on  the 
Jewish  anvil.  And  so,  many  of  our  modern  prayers  have 
become  a  lifeless  patchwork  of  texts  ;  *  a  disquisition  to  the 


*  Compare  Jeremy  Taylor,  Preface  to  Golden  Grove.  Would  that 
those  who  in  our  own  time  have  right  manfully  endeavored  to  heal  the 
disease  of  unreality  in  our  devotional  compilations,  did  not  too  often 


142  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING   AS 

people,  instead  of  a  crying  to  God;  and,  as  there  is  little 
aflection  in  them  which  might  even  savor  of  the  spirit,  so 
there  is  often  something  which  offends  the  understanding 
We  have  fallen,  in  this  respect,  far  below  the  level  which 
the  genius  and  the  piety  of  Hooker  had  attained  three  cen- 
turies ago.  That  illustrious  champion,  both  of  the  purity  of 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  and  of  the  freedom  of  the  human  mind, 
ehows  clearly,  in  the  second  book  of  his  immortal  work,  how 
Scripture  may  become  "  a  misery ^^  and  "  a  torment,'^  and  "  a 
snare "  /  and  his  counsel  is  most  truly  judicious,  that  we 
should  beware,  lest,  by  claiming  for  Holy  Scripture  more 
than  we  ought,  we  provoke  men  to  deny  it  its  due ;  lest,  in 
fact,  we  pervert  the  Bible  itself,  and  either  destroy  the 
spirituality  of  our  faith,  or  give  occasion  to  many  perverse 
delusions;  or,  again,  provoke  till  we  almost  justify  a  most 
dangerous  reaction  into  scoffing  infidelity. 

But  if  such  was  Hooker's  counsel  in  his  own  time,  how 
much  greater  need  is  there  that  some  one,  either  in  his  spirit, 
or  in  that  of  the  incomparable  Jeremy  Taylor,  should  speak 
words  of  even  bolder  counsel  now  !  For  it  hath  pleased  the 
Giver  of  our  thoughts,  and  the  Disposer  of  our  lot,  to  enlarge 
on  all  sides  the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge.  There  is 
no  science  of  the  heavens  above,  or  of  the  earth  beneath,  or 
of  the  waters  under  the  earth,  which  has  not  revealed  mys- 
teries of  its  own ;  or  which  does  not  refuse  to  be  limited  by 
the  brief  range  of  the  Hebrews,  who  in  all  such  things  were 
learners  rather  than  teachers.  Again,  our  more  extended 
familiarity  with  other  literatures  daily  shows  us  that  aspira- 
tions congenial  to  those  of  the  Hebrews  had  been  taught 
elsewhere  by  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh.  But,  above 
all,  the  critical  interpretation  of  the  sacred  volume  itself  is  a 

bring  their  own  remedies  from  the  dregs  of  the  Middle  Ages :  and  often, 
by  assembling  merely  the  dolorous  portions  out  of  Scripture,  make  work 
in  feminine  and  sensitive  natures  for  physicians  of  the  lK)dy,  (I  speak 
from  sad  observation,)  rather  than  do  the  work  of  the  Physician  of  souls. 
But  the  true  kingdom  of  God  brings  peace  and  joy  in  believing,  with 
childlike  conficlcQce. 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  143 

study  for  which  our  generation  is,  by  various  acquirements, 
eminently  qualified.  Hence  we  have  learnt  that  neither  the 
citations  usually  made  in  our  theological  systems,  nor  even 
those  adduced  from  the  Old  Testament  in  the  New,  are  any 
certain  guide  to  the  sense  of  the  original  text.  The  entire 
question  of  prophecy  requires  to  be  opened  again  from  its 
very  foundation.  Hence,  to  the  student  who  is  compelled  to 
dwell  on  such  things,  comes  often  the  distress  of  glaring  con- 
tradictions ;  and  with  some  the  intellect  is  clouded,  while  the 
faith  of  others  has  waxed  cold.  If  the  secret  religious  his- 
tory of  the  last  twenty  years  could  be  written,  (even  setting 
.aside  every  instance  of  apostasy  through  waywardness  of 
mind,  or  through  sensuality  of  life,)  there  would  remain  a 
page  over  which  angels  might  weep.  So  long,  indeed,  as 
such  difficulties  are  thought  absolutely  to  militate  against 
Christianity,  the  strong  necessity  which  the  best  men  feel  for 
Christian  sentiment  will  induce  them  to  keep  the  whole  sub- 
ject in  abeyance.  Yet  surely  the  time  must  come  when  God 
will  mercifully  bring  our  spirit  into  harmony  with  our  under- 
standing. Perhaps  a  greatness  and  a  place  not  far  from  the 
Apostles  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  may  be  reserved  for 
some  one,  who,  in  true  holiness  and  humility  of  heart,  shall 
be  privileged  to  accomplish  this  work.  We  can  almost  sym- 
pathize with  that  romantic  though  erroneous  faith,  which  has 
made  some  men  attempt  to  roll  back  the  stream  of  human 
knowledge,  and  to  take  refuge  from  doubts  in  a  dream  of 
living  infallibility.  But  all  such  attempts  must  fail ;  for  the 
God  of  truth  will  make  them  fail.  He  who  dwells  in  light 
eternal  does  not  promote  his  kingdom  by  darkness ;  and  He 
whose  name  is  Faithful  and  True  is  not  served  by  falsehood. 
If  knowledge  has  wounded  us,  the  same  spear  must  heal  our 
wound. 

Nor  can  I  close  wdthout  humbly  asking  the  grave,  the 
reverend,  and  the  learned,  whether  all  this  subject  does  not 
call  for  greater  seriousness,  tenderness,  and  frankness.  Who 
would  not  be  serious  on  observing  how  many  men's  hope  of 
heaven  is  bound  up  with  belief  in  the  infallibility  of  a  book, 


144  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING    AS 

which,  every  day  convinces  us,  expresses,  as  regards  things  of 
earth,  the  thoughts  of  fallible  men  ?  Or  who  would  not  pity 
rather  than  blame,  when  the  very  inquiries  in  which  the  love 
of  God  and  zeal  for  his  honor  first  engaged  us  seem  to  intro- 
duce (according  to  popular  theories)  the  most  distressing  con- 
tradictions ?  Or  who  is  so  bhnd  as  to  think  the  cause  of 
eternal  truth  should  be  defended  by  sophistries,  of  which  a 
special  pleader  would  be  ashamed  ?  One  would  make  large 
allowance  for  the  conscientious  anxiety  of  those  eminent  per- 
sons, whose  position  makes  them  responsible  as  bulwarks  of 
the  faith;  and  who  are  ever  dreading  the  consequences  to 
which  the  first  outlet  of  the  waters  of  freedom  may  tend. 
But  may  God  in  his  mercy  teach  them,  that  nothing  can  be 
so  dangerous  as  to  build  on  a  false  foundation.  The  ques- 
tion, how  far  we  would  go,  will  best  be  answered  by  ex- 
perience. Only  it  never  will  be  safe  to  stop  short  of  the 
Truth. 

But,  in  fact,  almost  everything  doubtful,  or,  at  least,  every- 
thing transparently  erroneous,  in  our  sacred  books,  might  be 
surrendered  to-morrow  with  little  or  rather  no  detriment  to 
the  essentials  of  the  Christian  faith.  It  is  strangely  unreason- 
able for  men  to  argue  that  they  cannot  believe  God  ought  to 
be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  unless  they  are  also  con- 
vinced that  Cyrenius  was  president  of  Syria,  or  that  the 
Cretans  were  always  liars.  Nor  ought  any  one  to  doubt 
whether  Gk)d  made  sea  and  land,  because  it  may  fairly  be 
questioned  how  far  the  poetry  in  Joshua  about  the  sun  stand* 
ing  still  (or  the  allegory  in  Jonah  about  the  whale)  ought  to 
be  interpreted  literally. 

Almost  all  difficulties  which  are  fairly  raised  belong  to 
those  things  of  earth,  about  which  well-meaning  Martha  was 
unnecessarily  cumbered ;  while  the  life  and  the  power  and 
the  salvation  are  the  inalienable  inheritance  of  Mary,  while 
she  sits  in  calmness  at  the  feet  of  the  Saviour. 

Let  not  then  exaggerations,  or  jK>lemical  inferences,  frighten 
us  in  vain.  We  may  grant  to  the  Romanist,  as  well  as  to 
many  Anglicans,  that  the  Church  was  before  the  Bible,  as  a 


MOVED  BY  THE  HOLT  GHOST.  145 

speaker  is  before  his  voice ;  and  that  Holy  Scripture  is  not 
the  foundation  of  the  Christian  faith  so  much  as  its  creature, 
its  expression,  and  its  embodiment.  But  it  will  not  therefore 
follow  that  this  Holy  Scripture  should  be  sealed  in  dead 
languages,  or  withheld  from  men  thirsting  for  the  words  of 
life.  Nor  ought  any  modern  mystic  to  persuade  us  that  the 
history  of  the  Divine  dealings  of  old  is  ever  useless  to  the 
human  mind ;  and  yet  we  may  concede  that  the  two  things 
from  which  Scripture  sprang  are  for  ever  in  the  world, — 
I  mean  the  conscience  of  man,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God. 
From  these  two,  meeting  in  the  Church,  the  Bible  derives  its 
origin,  its  authority,  and  its  power  to  persuade. 

I  exhort,  therefore,  every  soul  who  hears  me  to  value 
highly  the  Bible  ;  to  read  it,  pray  over  it,  understand  it. 
But  yet  beware  of  lying  for  God  ;  or  of  ascribing  infallibility 
to  men  of  like  passions  with  ourselves ;  or  of  sacrificing  the 
spirit  which  enlivens  to  the  letter  which  deadens. 

So  may  you  deserve  the  praise  of  those  ancient  Beroeans, 
who  are  ever  honored  because  they  were  more  ingenuous 
(^evy€U€(TT€poi),  or  because  their  minds  were  candid  in  receiv- 
ing the  truth.  So  too  will  you  be,  not  infidels,  but  believers 
in  Holy  Writ,  when  it  tells  you  that  its  authors  knew  only  in 
part,  and  prophesied  only  in  part ;  so  will  you  avoid  attrib- 
uting blasphemy  to  them,  by  calling  the  word  of  God  that 
which  they  profess  to  speak  as  men ;  and  even  to  speak  as 
fools  ;  so  will  you  not  make  them,  as  writers,  more  than  they 
were  as  speakers  ;  nor  will  you  sever,  as  they  did  not  sever, 
their  inspiration  from  that  of  the  congregation  at  large,  when 
they  exclaim,  "I  think  that  I  too"  {poKa>  M  ^ayco),  that  is,  "I 
as  well  as  others,  have  the  Spirit  of  God."  But  above  all, 
so  will  you  be  blessed,  as  servants  of  that  living  God  who  is 
never  weary  of  creating,  and  whose  promise  is  that  he  will 
dwell  among  us ;  and  so  too  disciples  of  Jesus,  who  prayed, 
not  for  his  Apostles  only,  but  for  all  who  should  believe 
through  their  word  ;  whose  most  precious  testament  was,  not, 
I  give  you  the  Bible,  but,  "  I  send  you  the  Comforter,  even 
the  Spirit  of  truth";  and  whose  binding  promise  is,  not,  I 
13 


146  SERVANTS    OF    GOD    SPEAKING,    ETC. 

am  with  the  first  generation  of  Christians,  and  possi])ly  with 
the  second,  but,  "  Lo,  I  am  with   you  alway,  lven  to 

THE   END    OP  THE   WORLD."* 

♦  Abundant  proofs  of  the  non-Petrine  origin  of  the  Epistle  called  St. 
Peter's  Second,  are  given  in  the  second  edition  of  Bunsen's  HippolytuSy 
from  whence,  however,  I  did  not  learn  it.  Even  Eusebius  had  said,  "  Of 
the  writings  named  as  Peter's,  I  know  only  one  Epistle  genuine."  Hist. 
Eccl.  III.  3.  The  internal  character  of  the  Epistle  corresponds  with  this 
external  disavowal.  But  if  any  one  asks  me.  Why  then  take  your  text 
fix)m  it  ?  such  a  questioner,  I  presume,  thinks  that  a  sentiment  cannot  be 
true,  or  worthy  of  commentary,  unless  it  be  a  particular  Apostle's  ;  that 
is  to  say,  he  thinks  things  are  true  because  they  are  written,  instead  of 
being  written  because  they  are  true ;  or  again,  lie  thinks  that  the  Church 
has  not  authority  sufficient  to  persuade  even  her  own  ministers  what 
books  they  shall  lecture  upon.  But  to  no  one  of  these  propositions  am 
I  able  to  assent ;  nor  again  do  I  feel  any  difficulty  in  adopting  the  senti- 
ment of  my  text,  whoever  may  have  ^vritten  it. 

Having  said  positively  that  nowhere  in  Holy  Scripture  is  the  term 
"  word  of  God  "  made  an  equivalent  or  synonyme  for  the  Bible,  I  Aay 
refer  to  the  Sermon  on  the  Kingdom  of  God  for  an  explanation  of  some 
texts  usually  misapplied.  I  did  not  make  up  my  own  mind  on  this  spe- 
cific point  until  after  a  consideration  extending  over  many  years.  The 
two  texts  most  favorable  to  the  vulgar  Pharisaism  are  perhaps  St.  Mark 
vii.  13  and  vii.  7  ;  but  in  the  one,  the  thing  intended  is  the  fifth  command- 
ment, as  wc  see  from  St.  Matthew  xv.  4,  9,  where  also  we  find  tilings 
both  Levitical  and  Scriptural  condemned  by  our  Lord  (see  ver.  10,  11) : 
and  in  the  other,  the  antithesis  is  not  between  written  and  un>vritten, 
but  between  divine  will  and  human  precept.  Perhaps  irapaboats  means 
precept  oftener  than  tradition. 

It  should,  however,  bo  clear,  that  I  know  of  no  tradition,  ecclesiastical 
or  other,  worthy  to  be  named  in  the  same  day  with  St.  Paul's  Epistles ; 
and  I  admit  Kara  avfi^f^ijKos  the  approximate  cocxtensivcness  of  our 
New  Testament  Scriptures  and  of  Apostolic  doctrine  ;  only  I  cannot  vio- 
late the  first  principles  of  Christianity  itself,  as  well  as  of  human  reason, 
by  putting  the  letter  before  the  spirit,  or  the  books  before  the  religion,  as 
our  popular  tradition  does.  We  are  rightly  taught  that  "  all  Holy  Scrip- 
ture is  written ybro«r  instruction."  Whenever,  therefore,  it  is  used  to  stunt 
our  knowledge,  or  fetter  our  spirits,  it  must  bo  misapplied ;  as  wo  read 
that  it  was  by  the  great  Tempter. 


THE   SPIRIT  AND  THE  LETTER,   OR  THE 
TRUTH  AND   THE  BOOK.* 

By  ROWLAND  WILLIAMS,  B.  D., 

RLtOW  AND  FOEMERLT  TCTOE  OP  KEfO'S  COLLEGE,  CAMBKIDQE,  AND  PROFESSOa  Of 
HSBBSW  AT  LAMPETER. 


"  After  the  way  which  (they)  call  heresy,  so  worship  I  the  Grod  of  my 
fathers."  —  Actsxxiv.  14. 

There  certainly  was  a  time  when  to  be  a  member  of  the 
Society  of  Friends  implied  something  greater  than  more  or 
less  harmless  peculiarities ;  for  they  bore  witness  before 
princes  and  people,  in  bonds  and  persecution,  for  the  great 
principle  of  the  spirit  of  the  Hving  God,  and  were  not 
ashamed.  If  then  one  of  them  had  been  asked,  Do  you  not 
worship  the  God  of  battles  ?  he  might  possibly  have  answered, 
No ;  and  again,  if  he  were  told  that  the  Almighty  is  called 
in  the  Old  Testament  the  Lord  of  hosts,  it  is  conceivable 
that  he  might  have  rejoined.  But  we  have  better  oracles. 
Immediately  upon  this  might  have  been  raised  a  cry,  This 
man  is  an  infidel,  for  he  denies  the  Scriptures ;  or  rather  an 
atheist,  for  he  disowns  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Yet  the  Quaker 
again  might  plead,  that  he  had  learnt  to  know  God,  not  so 
much  by  might,  or  by  power,  as  by  the  spirit  wherewith  he 
has  taught  us  to  call  him,  "  Our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'* 

*  Preached  hefore  the  Vice-Chancellor  and  University  i)f  Cambridge 
[Eng.],  in  King's  College  Chapel,  on  March  25,  1855. 


148  THE    SPIRIT    AND    THE    LETTER, 

He  might  go  on  to  affirm,  that,  in  thus  recognizing  the  eternal 
I  AM  under  his  more  blessed  character  as  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  he  did  not  for  a  moment  deny  the  same  Lord  to  have 
been  known  as  Almighty  by  the  patriarchs,  and  as  Eternal  by 
the  Jews ;  but  still,  that  the  sundry  times  and  divers  man- 
ners of  ancient  revealing  had  somewhat  melted  in  the  bright- 
ness of  the  revelation  of  that  Spirit,  which  cometh  forth  from 
the  Father  and  the  Son.  Thus,  that  many  things  "said  of 
old  time,"  *  in  the  rigor  of  the  letter,  must  now  be  interpreted, 
or  rather  expanded,  in  the  freedom  of  life  ;  and  so,  after  a 
manner  which,  even  if  it  were  called  heresy,  was  yet  the 
manner  of  Christ  and  his  apostles,  he  worshipped  the  God  of 
his  fathers. 

Nor  would  such  an  answer  be  unlike  in  spirit  to  those 
which  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  often  urges  in  vain 
upon  the  attention  of  his  irritated  countrymen.  For  it  is  not 
only  at  Athens  that  he  is  called  an  introducer  of  new  divini- 
ties ;  but  at  Jerusalem  he  is  denounced  as  one  who  taught 
apostasy  from  the  sacred  place,  and  the  Book  of  the  Law, 
and  the  worship  of  the  God  of  the  Hebrews.f  Difficult  as  it 
may  be,  with  our  scanty  information,  to  reconcile  some  parts 
of  his  conduct  —  such  as  the  "  being  at  charges  "  in  partici- 
pation of  sacrifice  in  the  temple  —  with  his  ai'gument  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  we  are  yet  able  to  observe  a 
wonderful  blending  of  courage  with  delicacy  in  his  manage- 
ment of  the  many  intricate  questions  which  are  proposed  to 
him.  He  does  not  think  fhat  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of 
all  flesh  was  a  God  of  the  Jew  only,  and  not  also  of  the 
Gentile,  yet  he  concedes  there  may  have  been  great  advan- 
tage in  those  opportunities  of  enliglitenment,  and  in  that 
faithfulness  of  the  Divine  promises,  which  belonged  to  the 

♦  Compare  the  running  antithesis,  St.  Matt.  v.  21  •  27,  31,  43,  with 
Jcr.  xxxi.  31,  32  ;  Ileb.  viii.  8-  10 ;  2  Cor.  iil.  4  -  14 ;  1  Cor.  ii.  7  ;  ill 
1  ;  1  John  ii.  20-27. 

f  The  common  charge  against  the  early  Christians  wan,  with  Jews, 
Infidelity;  with  Gentiles,  atheism.  The  wortl  Amay  had  not  yet  ao- 
(paired  its  technical  sense. 


OR  THE  TRUTH  AND  THE  BOOK.  149 

chosen  people  of  old.  So  he  admits  even  the  Law  of  Moses 
to  have  been  in  its  idea  holy  and  pure,  yet  he  contends  that 
this  sanctity  was  not  from  the  fact  of  its  being  imposed  with 
penalties  at  the  Exodus,  but  from  its  participation  in  those 
older  and  holier  principles  of  which  Abraham  had  the  promise, 
and  even  the  Gentiles  a  scripture  in  their  heart.  The  Law, 
then,  so  far  as  it  is  Mosaic,  and  penal,  or  even  outwardly 
preceptive,  can  never  be  the  highest  guide  of  those  who  have 
the  mind  of  Christ,  —  yet  its  ancient  records  may  still  be 
useful ;  and  not  only  would  he  quote  them  largely,  in  address- 
ing .Tews  who  "  desired  to  be  under  them,"  as  he  quotes  even 
Gentile  prophets  in  addressing  Athenians,  but  his  own  mind 
was  evidently  imbued  with  reverential  affection  towards  those 
songs  of  Zion  which  (as  the  liturgy  of  his  race)  he  must  often 
have  sung  in  solemn  services,  and  to  those  deeply  searching 
prophets  whose  fervent  spirit,  ever  penetrating  from  the  form 
of  godliness  to  its  power,  was  so  often  a  type  of  his  own. 

Again,  the  Apostle  does  not  seem  able  to  contend,  that  the 
entire  scheme  of  Christianity  is  legible  in  the  Old  Testament 
with  that  perfect  clearness  which  some  modern  interpreters 
would  compel  us  to  acknowledge  ;  and  our  favorite  citations 
of  prophecy  find  in  him  little  place  ;  but  yet  he  thinks  there 
was  always  a  unity  in  tlie  Divine  dealings ;  the  predestination 
of  the  Gospel  may  have  been  veiled,  but  yet  it  must  have 
been  predestined  *  as  a  scheme  for  calling  men  to  repentance 
from  all  eternity ;  and  though  this  veiled  design  had  lurked 
under  the  choice  of  temporal  Israel,  and  under  the  offering  of 
slain  beasts,  and  the  form  of  written  precepts,  yet  its  mean- 
ing (mystery)  would  be  revealed  in  the  uncovering  to  all  men 
of  the  face  of  the  Father,  —  in  the  lively  sacrifices  of  men 
saying  by  the  spirit  of  Christ,  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,"  f 
—  and  in  the  purified  vision  of  consciences  quickened  by  a 
faith  which  should  draw  life  from  love,  and  thereby  be  the 
fulfilment  of  the  highest  law. 


*  First  chapter  of  Ephesians. 
t  Compare  Psalm  xl  8  and  Hebrews  x.  7-9. 
13* 


150  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE   LETTER, 

Thus  is  St.  Paul  a  servant,  faithful  to  Christ,  and  yet  wise 
in  the  wisdom  of  Moses ;  bringing  out  of  his  treasury  things 
new,  without  dissociating  them  rudely  from  things  old. 

Now  we  cannot  say  that  any  change  so  great  as  that 
heralded  by  the  first  preachers  of  Christ  is  to  be  expected  in 
our  own  time.  For  certainly  the  words  of  Christ,  in  their 
highest  meaning,  do  not  pass  away.  May  there  not,  however, 
be  something  sufficiently  analogous  for  the  great  Apostle's 
example  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  to  have  been  written  for 
our  instruction,  though  upon  us  the  last  dispensation  is  come  ? 
Even  in  the  same  generation,  there  are  many  persons  who 
may  claim  alike  the  designation  of  Christians,  yet  whose  con- 
ceptions of  the  Gospel  differ  so  widely,  that  no  one  of  them 
could  adopt  the  views  of  any  other  one  without  a  change  of 
mind  so  sweeping  as  to  be  painful.  Even  in  our  own  lives, 
if  we  have  made  it  our  business  to  study  religion,  either  as  a 
matter  of  thought  or  of  practice,  we  cannot  but  be  conscious 
of  passing  through  certain  changes  of  apprehension.  When 
we  are  children,  we  think  as  children ;  and  when  we  are  men, 
we  put  away  childish  things.  But,  much  more,  in  a  succes- 
sion of  generations,  very  great  differences  may  be  expected  to 
prevail  in  the  mode  of  holding  a  truth  essentially  the  same.* 
The  Christianity  of  the  early  Fathers  of  the  Church  is  hardly 
that  of  St.  Augustine ;  still  less  is  it  that  of  St.  Anselm,  f  or 
of  Calvin.  The  great  object  of  our  faith  remains  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever ;  but  those  reflections  from  his 
thoughts,  which  are  thrown  figunitively  |  on  the  mirror  of  our 
understanding,  may  be  darker  or  more  distinct,  from  day  to 
day.     Perhaps  even  the  very  truth  which  saves  the  soul, 

♦  See  some  admirable  remarks  on  this,  needed  now  more  than  when 
they  were  written,  in  I^fessor  Hey's  Norrisian  Lectures,  edited  by 
Bishops  Kayo  and  Turton. 

t  A  suffiricnt  notion  of  St.  Anselm  may  bo  pot  from  some  recent 
Bamplon  Lectures  by  Mr.  Thompson ;  but  the  accomplished  author 
sccnis  to  l>e  hardly  aware  how  much  more  profound  what  tlie  Fatlicn 
meant  was  than  the  supposed  improvement  of  St.  Ausuhu. 

X  iv  cuuiyfULTL    1  Cor.  xiiL  12. 


OR   THE    TRUTH   AND    THE   BOOK.  151 

whether  it  be  called  faith,  or  love,  or  Christ,  or  the  Holy- 
Ghost,  may  be  held  with  more  or  less  clearness.  Or,  if  this 
be  thought  necessarily  simple  and  uniform,  still  there  is  a 
point,  which  may  be  difficult  to  define,  —  but  there  is  a  point, 
at  which  the  truth  of  things  eternal  comes  in  contact  with  our 
experience  of  things  temporal,  and  there  the  knowledge,  the 
manners,  the  favorite  studies,  of  every  generation  of  Christians 
may  indefinitely  vary,  and  give  a  bias  in. proportion  to  their 
mode  of  conceiving  of  some  of  the  associations  of  their  faith. 

Thus,  in  our  own  time,  our  wider  acquaintance  with  both 
nations  and  languages,  our  habit  of  scrutinizing  ancient  rec- 
ords and  comparing  different  faiths  together,  as  well  as  the 
cultivation  of  those  mental  inquiries  which  approach,  if  they 
do  not  touch,  upon  religion,  have  all  tended  to  awaken  a  spirit 
which  some  condemn,  and  others  welcome,  but  which  most 
observers  will  admit  to  exist.  Even  if  discoveries  which 
must  affect  the  general  shape  of  our  conceptions  as  regards 
Divine  Revelation  are  not  now  made  for  the  first  time,  yet  a 
knowledge  of  such  discoveries,  confined  perhaps  once  to  a 
few  scholars,  is  now  diffused  amongst  masses  of  men  ;  and  the 
real  significance,  or  the  import,  with  which  some  character- 
istics of  our  sacred  literature  are  pregnant,  is  far  more  clear- 
ly discerned,  from  the  opportunities  which  we  enjoy  for  com- 
paring such  things  with  similar  phenomena  elsewhere.  There 
is  a  leaven  which  may  have  been  in  the  world  before,  but 
which  is  now  fermenting  through  the  three  measures  of  meal. 
Hence  arises  the  question,  how  a  growing  spirit  of  scepticism 
in  some  quarters,  and  of  perplexity  in  others,  ought  to  be  met 
by  those  who  are  responsible  both  to  God  and  man  for  the 
stability  or  the  progress  of  religion  in  the  world.  And  if  it 
be  now,  as  ever,  the  abiding  sentence  of  the  Almighty,  that 
whoso  rejects  knowledge  shall  be  rejected  from  being  priest 
before  him,  a  few  suggestions  on  this  subject  may  well  claim 
your  attention,  brethren,  in  these  walls,,  which  were  conse- 
crated to  be  a  nursery  of  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  upon  this 
our  solemn  Feast-day. 

There  are  some  persons  who  look  on  all  the  tendencies 


152  THE    SPIRIT    AND    THE    LETTER, 

above  alluded  to  with  undisji^uised  alarm ;  and  others  who  do 
so  with  hope,  or  at  least  with  perfect  tranquillity  of  faith. 
Does  not  this  difference  of  view  imply,  that  there  are  also  two 
sets  of  persons,  one  laying  exclusive  stress  upon  the  evidences 
of  the  body,  the  other  regarding  rather  those  of  the  mind  ?  It 
is  obvious  to  remark,  that  these  two  aspects  ought  to  be  com- 
bined rather  than  separated ;  but  we  find  that  a  tendency  in 
either  one  direction  or  the  other  is  apt  to  preponderate  so 
much  as  to  give  a  practical  impress  to  a  man's  character,  and 
to  the  cast  of  his  belief. 

The  first  set  consider  man  as  a  mere  animal,  and  divorce 
him  by  nature  from  God  and  from'  immortality.  They  may 
do  this,  either  from  a  materializing  philosophy  of  the  senses, 
or  from  an  ultra- Augustinian  emphasis  on  the  fall  of  Adam ; 
but  in  either  case,  they  leave  as  wide  a  gulf  between  God  and 
mankind,  as  that  which  Mahomet  was  unable  to  fill.  As  to 
any  pure  voice  of  conscience,  or  better  aspiration  of  the  heart 
leading  us  upward,  they  almost  boast  of  considering  all  such 
things  utterly  untrustworthy;  they  cast  a  disdainful  glance 
over  the  great  history  of  the  Gentile  world,  and  find  in  it  no 
traces  of  the  finger  of  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh ;  and 
if  they  are  asked,  IIow  then  does  God  teach  man  ?  they 
answer,  By  Moses  on  Blount  Sinai,  and  by  our  blessed  Lord 
in  Jerusalem ;  and  these  two  revelations  are  so  attested  by 
miracles,  that  we  cannot  doubt  their  ti*uth,  while  on  account 
also  of  the  same  miracles  we  have  our  attention  imperiously 
arrested  by  the  Book  which  records  them ;  and  are  then  led 
to  regard  that  Book  as  not  only  true,  but  exhaustive  of  truth, 
and  unquestionably  the  very  word  of  God.  Thus  only,  as 
they  conceive,  can  we  arrive  at  the  satisfaction  of  certainty ; 
for  as  to  any  agreement  of  the  contents  of  the  Book  with  our 
moral  and  intellectual  being,  that  is  at  best  a  secondary  and 
an  untrustworthy  kind  of  evidence;  our  great  foundation  is 
miracle,  and  our  only  result  is  the  Bible. 

On  the  other  hand,  our  second  set  of  thinkers  look  upon 
mankind  a^  something  different  from  the  beasts  that  perish. 
They  regard  him  rather  as  the  child  of  God ;  fallen  indeed, 


OR  THE  TRUTH  AND  THE  BOOK.  153 

or  falling  ever,  below  that  which  his  Maker  calls  good,  and 
his  own  earnest  expectation  groans  for ;  yet  still  trained  by 
Providence ;  appealed  to,  however  indiscernibly,  even  from 
childhood  upwards,  by  something  of  spiritual  experience; 
and,  from  the  mould  in  which  he  was  formed,  not  destined  to 
find  rest  or  happiness  apart  from  that  Being  whose  image  he 
bears.  Nor  is  this,  as  they  contend,  a  fanciful  conception, 
but  one  to  which  all  history  bears  witness,  —  the  greatest  men, 
and  the  noblest  nations,  and  the  most  enduring  virtues,  having 
been  everywhere  sustained  by  some  vestige  of  such  a  behef ; 
nor  ought  it  to  be  allowed,  according  to  all  human  analogies, 
that  the  admixture  of  various  errors  is  any  argument  against 
a  truth,  which  may  yet  survive,  as  the  redeeming  principle, 
among  them.  So  that  just  as  Christianity  had  the  Law  as  its 
schoolmaster  among  the  Jews,  it  may  also  have  had  a  prep- 
aration of  men's  minds  by  training  for  it,  from  the  great 
teachers  of  righteousness  in  Hellas,  and  from  the  masters  of 
polity  at  Rome.  And  just  as  these  to  the  ancient  Gentile,  so 
our  conscience  with  all  our  experience  of  history  may  be  to 
us  now,  what  Moses  and  the  Prophets  were  to  the  Jews,  in 
respect  of  the  great  Teacher  and  Saviour  to  come. 

Here  then  is  a  tone  of  thought  very  different  from  the  one 
first  described.  If  we  attempt  to  illustrate  the  two  from 
ancient  heresies,  we  might  say  the  first  has  an  Ebionite  ten- 
dency ;  the  second  is  in  danger  of  some  form  of  Gnostic 
error.  Or,  if  we  consider  them  both  as  interpreting  things 
connected  with  Scripture,  the  one  would  say,  that  the  phy- 
lacteries of  the  Jews,  with  texts,  were  worn  in  obedience  to 
express  revelation;  the  other  would  see  in  them  a  strong 
figure  *  of  exhortation  corrupted  into  a  formal  usage.  So  by 
Urim  and  Thummim^  one  would  understand,  that  a  light, 
grossly  physical,  and  yet  supernatural,  falling  on  the  high- 
priest's  breastplate,  made  its  stones  oracular  ;  while  the  other 

*  Compare  Exodus  xiii.  9-16  with  Numbers  xv.  38,  39.  Does  the 
greater  literalness  of  the  later  book  (considering  also  the  signs  of  com- 
pilation in  its  twenty-first  chapter)  betray  an  interval  of  some  genera« 
tions  1 


I5i  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE   LETTER, 

would  imagine  rather  a  symbol  of  that  light  which  God  gives 
to  his  upright  ones  in  the  clearness  of  understanding.  Per- 
haps, again,  the  Shechinah  of  the  temple  (or  even  of  the 
tabernacle)  might  admit  of  a  similar  variety  of  interpreta- 
tion. 

Again,  if  we  ask  the  followers  of  the  two  tendencies  we 
are  describing  for  their  watchwords,  one  will  reply,  the  in- 
fallibility of  the  Bible ;  but  the  other  will  say,  the  truth  of 
Christ.  So,  the  one  would  define  Christianity  as  the  religion 
contained  in  the  Bible ;  whereas  the  other  would  call  it  the 
Gospel,  as  being  good  news  ;  or  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross,  as 
being  self-sacrifice  ;  or,  in  short,  the  religion  of  Christ.  The 
one,  then,  pays  its  principal  allegiance  to  the  Scripture,  which 
is  true  ;  but  the  other  to  the  Truth,  which  is  also  written. 
Again,  the  one  finds  a  duty,  and  even  takes  a  pleasure,  in 
opposing  the  Bible,  by  means  of  the  sharpest  conceivable 
contrasts  to  all  the  whispers  of  natural  equity,  to  the  purest 
yearnings  of  our  affections,  and  to  the  presentiments  of  our 
conscience ;  whereas  the  other  never  hesitates  to  say,  that 
the  Bible  itself  is  either  a  providential  embodiment  of  those 
very  things,  which  are  the  witness  of  God  in  man,  and  can- 
not be  disparaged  without  blasphemy ;  or  else  at  least  it  is  a 
result,  for  which,  under  the  good  guidance  of  God,  they  had 
been  preparing  the  way. 

It  is  now  easy  to  understand  why  the  advocates  of  our 
first  manner  of  tliinking  are  so  disquieted  by  anything  which 
tells,  I  do  not  say  against  the  general  truth,  but  against  the 
infallibility  of  the  Sacred  Records,  which  they  make  not  only 
the  symbol,  but  the  foundation,  of  their  faith.  For  they  have, 
as  it  were,  desecrated  life  and  all  its  experiences ;  they  have 
in  effect,  if  not  in  intention,  removed  Gotl  from  it  as  far  as 
they  can ;  they  think  all  its  fair  humanities,  whether  art,  or 
music,  or  literature,  have  at  best  little  to  do  with  religion,  and 
are  perhaps  dangerous  to  it.  Hence  they  survey  their  progress 
with  indifference,  diversified  only  by  fits  of  panic ;  while  as 
for  the  deep  sense  of  things  eternal,  wherewith  our  Maker 
encompasses  us,  —  the  crying  out  of  the  heart  and  the  flesh 


OR  THE  TRUTH  AND  THE  BOOK.  155 

for  the  living  God,  the  instantaneous  response  of  t.verj  un- 
corrupt  conscience  to  the  sayings  of  our  Saviour  upon  the 
mount,  and  the  calm  happiness  which  comes  of  well-doing, 
—  they  have  either  so  materialized  *  their  own  souls  that 
they  are  not  conscious  of  such  experiences,  or  else  they  think, 
that,  apart  from  a  particular  fashion  of  speech,  such  things 
are  utterly  untrustworthy,  and  possibly  may  be  of  the  Devil. 
In  short,  they  have  staked  their  cause  upon  one  argunaent. 
It  may  be  doubted  if  that  is  the  one  St.  Paul  would  have 
recommended,  or  if  it  would  have  been  chosen  by  those  who 
had  been  longest  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  "  Except  they 
see  signs  and  wonders,  they  will  not  believe."  When,  then, 
their  tendency  of  opinion  reaches  its  full  result,  such  men's 
religion  becomes  neither  a  leaven  fermenting  through  human 
nature,  nor  a  vine  rooted  and  growing,  nor  a  living  and  a 
moulding  power ;  but  it  is  as  an  image  fallen  down  once  for 
all  from  heaven,  with  no  analogy  in  nature,  with  no  parallel 
in  history,  with  no  affinity  among  the  Gentiles,  and  (except 
for  some  special  reasons)  with  no  echo  to  its  fitness  from  the 
human  heart.  Hence,  however,  it  is  only  natural  for  any 
encroachment  on  the  solitary  ground  of  such  persons'  faith  to 
appear  "  dangerous  "  ;  and  since  the  great  recommendation 
of  all  their  cast  of  sentiment  was  its  fancied  safety,  they  are 
in  proportion  alarmed.  Thus  it  is  painful  to  them  even  to  be 
told  of  little  discrepancies  in  our  sacred  books  ;  they  cannot 
understand  that  a  true  teacher  of  religion  may  be  imperfectly 
informed  in  other  things,  though -analogous  instances  might 
strike  them  every  day  ;  even  the  idea  of  religious  growth, 
which  pervades  the  whole  Bible,  is  not  kindly  accepted  by 
them,  or  is  confined  to  one  or  two  great  epochs  of  dispensa- 
tion ;  and  as  for  the  many  inquiries  of  great  literarj'-  and  his 
toiical  interest,  which  the  criticism  of  the  Sacred  Volume 
involves,  they  have  so  prejudged  such  questions,  that  they 
either  will  not  acquire  the  knowledge,  requisite  to  answer 
them,  or  they  shut  their  eyes  to  any  fresh  form  of  the  answer, 

*  That  is,  in  St.  Paul's  language,  "  made  carnal." 


156  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE    LETTER, 

as  it  appears  in  the  light  of  to-day ;  or  they  even  raise  an 
outcry  against  the  investigation  of  any  more  consistent  stu- 
dent, as  if  it  were  a  triumph  of  "  infidelity,"  —  and  thereby 
they  most  unwisely  make  it  so.  Certainly,  their  heart  does 
not  stand  fast ;  for  they  are  afraid  when  any  fresh  tidings 
come,  either  from  general  knowledge,  or  from  fervent  and 
self-sacrificing  devotion,  or  from  a  critical  study  even  of  the 
Bible. 

But  turn  we  now  to  those  who,  reverencing  the  letter  at 
least  as  deeply  as  St.  Paul  did,  have  yet  grounded  their  faith 
mainly  on  the  spirit,  without  neglecting  the  aids  of  the  un- 
derstanding. They  are  persuaded  that  they  may  justify  the 
ways  of  God  by  rendering  to  the  intellect  its  own,  and  yet 
render  to  faith  the  things  that  are  faith's.  Nay,  rather,  they 
think  that  doing  the  one  is  a  condition  necessary  to  the  other.* 
Clearly,  then,  it  does  not  disturb  them  to  learn  that  the  pur- 
pose of  God,  though  veiled  from  the  Jews  (/ivar^ptov),  had 
made  the  Gentiles,  even  of  old,  heirs  of  a  certain  salvation 
of  the  soul.  Hence  they  approach  with  calmness  such  ques- 
tions as  how  far  Moses  took  anything  from  the  wisdom  of  the 
Egyptians,  or  whether  Hellenizing  Hebrews  f  had  used  lan- 
guage adopted  by  St.  Paul  and  St.  John ;  they  can  even  wel- 
come any  fresh  instances  that  God  has  left  himself  nowhere 
without  witness ;  and,  since  both  providence  and  grace  have 
ultimately  One  Giver,  they  can  easily  believe  that  the  one 
has  been  a  cradle  for  the  other.  Perhaps,  indeed,  the  won- 
derful correspondence  betvween  the  spiritual  judgments  of  the 
Gospel  and  of  the  purest  searchers  after  godliness  elsewhere, 


*  The  saying,  Bdieve,  that  thou  mayest  understand,  belongs  more  tc 
principles  tlinn  to  facts,  and  may  be  as  much  misused  as  its  opposite, 
Let  me  understand,  that  I  may  believe.  For  it  has  been  applied  to  dark- 
ness as  often  as  to  light.  Hence  it  might  be  better  to  say,  Love  the  truths 
that  thou  mayest  know  it.  For  this  would  give  nearly  the  same  lesson,  and 
be  less  liable  to  abuse. 

t  Good  Jacob  Bryant  wrote  a  book  to  prove  that  Philo  resembled  St. 
John;  and  although  his  chronology  requires  to  be  inverted,  his  proof  of 
the  resemblance  holds  good. 


OR   THE    TRUTH   AND    THE    BOOK.  157 

is  not  one  of  the  least  arguments  for  the  true  divinity  of  Christ. 
>For  it  shows  that  the  Wisdom  which  took  flesh  in  him  came 
from  the  Supreme  and  Universal  Teacher  of  mankind.  Nor, 
again,  do  Christians,  such  as  I  now  speak  of,  require  a  great 
gulf  between  the  experiences  of  devout  men  to-day  and  those 
of  the  servants  of  God  in  the  days  of  old.  One  of  their  great 
reasons  for  believing  things  written  in  Scripture  is,  that  they 
experience  the  same.  They  are  persuaded  of  the  comfort  of 
prayer,  the  peace  of  trustfulness,  the  joy  of  thanksgiving,  the 
rightful  rule  of  holiness,  the  necessity  of  repentance,  and  the 
wholesomeness  of  a  discipline  of  conscience ;  and  they  gladly 
welcome  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  Because  God  teaches  such 
things  now,  they  more  easily  believe  he  taught  them  of  old. 
Nor  have  they  any  desire  to  doubt,  that  He  who  thus  fash- 
ioned the  hearts  of  his  people,  may  also  have  exhibited  great 
wonders  of  old  to  their  external  sense.  The  great  majority 
of  them,  indeed,  implicitly  believe  the  letter  of  every  miracle 
in  the  Bible ;  yet  they  would  never  be  so  illogical  as  to  make 
these  remote  and  often  obscurely  attested  events  the  proof* 
of  things  being  true  which  they  know  by  experience,  and 
which  are  so  far  more  important  in  saving  the  soul  alive. 
Hence  many  of  them  believe  the  miracles  for  the  sake  of  the 
doctrines ;  and  this  order  is  more  truly  Christian  than  the 
converse.  Some  of  them,  however,  would  remark,  that  the 
modern  definition  of  a  miracle  is  far  too  technical ;  in  the  old 
Hebrew  mind,  everything  was  a  great  wonder  which  caused  a 
present  awe  of  the  great  Governor  of  the  world.  Thus  the 
morning  roll  of  the  tide,  and  the  stormy  wind  arising,  were 
great  wonders ;  and  though  other  things,  to  which  the  same 
name  is  applied,  may  seem  more  extraordinary,  yet  we  can 
believe  the  Divine  agency  in  them  to  have  marched  along  the 
silent  path  of  forethought  rather  than  with  the   Cyclopean 


*  This  is  almost  too  forcibly  put  in  the  striking  wish  of  Mr.  Maurice, 
that  persons,  resting  their  faith  as  Christians  on  the  ten  plagues  of  Egypt, 
might  find  all  Egyptian  experiences  tend  to  shake  it.     See  his  Sermons 
on  the  Lessons  from  the  Old  Testament. 
14 


158  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE    LETTER, 

crash  of  strength  and  force.  As  to  our  Saviour's  miracles, 
indeed,  they  are  even  wrought  generally  with  the  concurrence 
of  the  receiver's  faith ;  and  they  are  all  signs  of  mercy,  or 
parables  full  of  meaning ;  and,  again,  so  far  as  the  element 
of  power  is  brought  out  in  them,  it  is  rather  as  exemplifying 
the  rule  of  a  very  present  God  over  nature,  than  as  "  evi- 
dence "  *  for  truths  which  are  themselves  far  more  evident. 
Hence,  whether  an  event  should  be  considered  as  more  or  less 
miraculous,  is  always  a  question  to  be  decided  by  the  proba- 
bilities of  the  particular  passage,  whether  prose  or  poetry, 
contemporaneous  or  remote  ;  and  is  never  to  be  prejudged  as 
if  it  affected  either  way  the  foundations  of  our  faith,  f 

From  such  a  tone  of  thought  as  regards  miracles,  we  may 
expect  those  who  entertain  it  to  approach  the  more  important 

*  Has  not  the  ambiguity  of  the  term  evidence  somewhat  misled  our 
modem  apologists  ?  It  may  have  meant  clearness,  or  visibiliti/,  as  of 
Truth  and  Justice ;  but  they  take  it  in  the  sense  of  legal  testimony,  and 
80  entangle  themselves  in  special  pleading. 

t  Suppose  any  one  brought  up  to  understand  as  literal  prose  Covr 
per's  hymn, 

He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea. 
And  rides  upon  the  storm,  — 
would  it  be  an  utter  loss  to  him  to  discover  that  the  terms  were  figura- 
tive ?  or  might  they  still  express  to  him  a  truth  ?  Apply  the  same  idea 
to  many  of  the  Psalms,  such  as  the  eighteenth,  which  the  Hebrew  title 
makes  a  description  of  David's  deliverance  from  Saul.  May  it  not  also 
apply  to  other  poetical  parts,  such  as  part  of  Habakkuk,  and  to  such 
fragments  as  are  expressly  quoted  from  the  book  of  Jasher  (I  do  not  sav 
all  that  have  been  conjectural ly  ascribed  to  it),  especially  if  some  of  them 
closely  resemble  the  ode  in  Habakkuk  ?  But  it  will  be  said,  here  was  a 
poetical  inttftition ;  and  it  is  a  wide  leap  to  interpret  plain  prose  on  such 
principles.  This  distinction  should  have  its  weight.  Still  the  fondness 
of  some  nations  for  apologue  or  parable,  the  tendency  of  ideas  to  clothe 
themselves  in  narrative,  and  the  possibility  of  traditions,  once  oral  or 
poetical,  having  subsecjuently  taken  form  in  prose,  arc  all  things  which 
may  suggest  themselves  to  critical  renders,  and  should  weigh  for  what 
they  are  worth  in  each  case,  and  for  no  more.  But  if  scholars  wantonly 
exaggerate  difficulties,  or  state  them  with  indecency  or  scotRng,  the  case 
is  diffea^nt.  I  have  never  intended  doing  so,  and  have  no  sympathy  of 
feeling  with  any  one  who  does. 


OR  THE  TRUTH  AND  THE  BOOK.  159 

subject  of  prophecy,  without  suffering  their  reverential  pre- 
possessions to  take  an  undue  form  of  prejudice,  or  any  disap- 
pointment of  them  to  be  a  cause  of  overwhehning  alarm. 
Suppose  that  what  Bishop  Butler  said  hypothetically  on  this 
subject  should  now  be  come  actually  upon  us,  —  suppose 
that  things  often  treated  as  direct  literal  predictions  of  Christ 
should  have  been  spoken  primarily  of  some  king,  or  prophet, 
or  nation.  Such  a  result  may  cause  great  distress,  and  even 
desolation  of  mind,  to  those  who  make  theology  a  mere 
balance  of  texts,  and  make  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth 
all  understanding,  depend  upon  the  critical  accuracy  of  illus- 
trations borrowed  in  the  New  Testament  from  the  Old.  But 
no  such  grievous  consequence  follows  to  men  who  have  been 
so  born  of  the  Spirit,  that  they  believe  Christ's  words  because 
they  are  spirit  and  truth.  They  are  no  more  surprised  that 
their  Saviour  should  appear  under  earthly  images  in  the  Old 
Testament,  than  that  he  should  be  called  "  the  carpenter's  son  " 
in  the  New.  Their  conception  of  him  is  not  formed  by  bal- 
ancing the  imperfect  utterances  of  childhood  against  those  of 
the  full-grown  stature  of  the  servants  of  God ;  but  it  rather 
takes  in  the  height  of  that  great  idea  at  which  the  Church 
arrived  when  she  stood  as  it  were  by  the  goal ;  for  then  she 
looked  back  with  understanding  on  the  race  of  Him  who,* 
though  manifested  in  the  flesh,  had  been  justified  in  the  spirit, 
and  who,  though  seen  only  by  Apostles,  had  been  preached  to 
nations;  and  whom  she  found  so  believed  upon,  as  a  king, 
throughout  the  world  in  which  he  once  had  not  where  to  lay 
his  head,  that  she  felt,  surely  God  must  have  received  him  up 
into  glory.  For  they  all  along  admit  the  idea  of  training ; 
and  so,  the  principle  of  life  and  of  growth.  It  was  natural 
for  the  people  of  Nazareth  to  see  in  Jesus  only  Joseph's  son ; 

*  1  Timothy  Hi.  16,  where  I  have  ventured  to  paraphrase  that  reading 
of  the  Greek  which  seems  on  the  whole  best  attested.  It  should  be 
aimpared,  for  the  sense  oi  angels,  with  ch.  v.  ver.  21  of  the  same  Epistle; 
and  for  the  general  sentiment,  with  Romans,  ch.  i.  vv.  3,  4.  On  this,  as 
on  other  questions  of  text,  I  am  glad  to  fortify  myself  with  the  authority 
of  Dr.  Tregelles. 


160  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE   LETTER, 

it  was  natural  for  the  old  Hebrews  to  think  of  the  righteous 
king,  and  the  afflicted  prophet,  and  the  chosen  people,  before 
thej  rose  to  the  conception  of  a  verilj  Divine  wisdom  and 
love,  uncovering  itself  in  substance,  and  pervading  the  con- 
ceptions of  all  nations. 

But  where,  then,  some  one  will  ask,  are  our  "  evidences  *'  ? 
It  may  be  answered  in  two  words,  the  character  of  Christ  and 
the  doctrine  of  Christ.  Or  to  say  the  same  thing  in  the  words 
of  St.  Paul,  we  preach  Christ  the  power  of  God,  and  Christ 
the  wisdom  of  God.  If  priests  embody  the  idea  of  conse- 
cration, He  is  holy,  —  if  prophets  that  of  knowledge  or  vision, 
he  is  the  great  speaker  of  truths  which  touch  the  heart,  —  if 
kings  imply  rightful  rule,  he,  or  his  spirit,  is  that  which 
should  sway  our  thoughts,  —  if  the  poor  and  afflicted  are  the 
special  care  of  God,  was  ever  affliction  like  his  ?  —  if  teachers 
do  a  sacred  work,  if  martyrs  throw  a  fire  upon  the  earth 
which  is  not  quenched,  if  the  shepherd  to  his  flock,  and  the 
husband  to  his  wife,  and  the  pastor  to  his  people,  have  all 
some  office  of  beneficence,  and  so  something  of  sacred ness 
from  their  having  been  designed  in  the  love  of  God ;  —  all 
these  things  are,  as  St,  Paul  says,  "  brought  to  a  head  in 
Christ " ;  he  concentrates  and  exhibits  in  his  hfe,  in  his  doc- 
trine, in  his  death,  and  in  the  holy  spirit  whereby  he  ever 
lives,  and  wherewith  he  animates  the  whole  body  of  his 
Church,  the  Divine  perfection  of  those  excellences,  of  which 
fragments,  and  shadows,  and  images,  are  scattered  through- 
out the  world  elsewhere.  And  however  true  it  may  be,  that 
pur  religion  is  in  its  essence  attachment  to  Christ  as  a  person, 
this  can  never  mean  to  his  name,  or  to  his  power,  as  if  he 
were  jealous  or  arbitrary;  but  rather*  to  that  gootlness  and 
that  truth  which  he  embodies,  and  which  commend  themselves 
by  their  excellence  to  the  faith  of  the  pure  in  heart. 

Those  then  come  to  Christ  who  believe  in  the  spirit  of 
Moses  and  of  Isaiah,  and  who  would  have  listened  to  each 
prophet  of  truth  from  time  to  time  among  the  Jews,  —  who 

^  The  issae  raised  in  this  sentence  is  vitally  critical,  and  prc^ant. 


OR  THE  TRUTH  AND  THE  BOOK.  161 

Tvould  stand  by  Socrates  as  he  drank  his  hemlock  among  the 
Greeks,  —  and  who,  in  short,  in  all  tiriles  and  places,  would 
acknowledge  the  authority  of  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 
whatsoever  are  lovely,  whatsoever  are  of  good  report.  Now 
this  kind  of  free  allegiance,  from  love,  and  for  the  excellence 
of  the  object's  sake,  is  perhaps  not  exactly  that  of  those  who, 
starting  with  the  Bible,  —  or  even  with  the  Divine  authority 
of  our  Lord,  —  infer  from  thence  dogmatically  the  excellence 
of  his  precepts  ;  but  it  is  more  like  that  of  the  Apostles,  who 
saw  the  superhuman  beauty  of  our  Lord's  truth  and  patience, 
and  his  majesty  made  perfect  through  sufferings ;  and  then 
reasoned  *  upward.  Surely  this  was  the  Son  of  God. 

Such  a  mode  of  thought  has  also  the  advantage  of  starting 
more  from  the  purer  moral  instincts  of  our  nature.  Yet  it  is 
so  far  from  fearing  reason,  that  it  finds,  in  a  way,  confirma- 
tions everywhere.  It  is  under  no  temptation  to  wrest  texts 
into  conformity  with  systems  ;  or  to  congeal  the  outpourings 
of  passionate  penitence  into  materials  for  syllogisms ;  or  to 
make  traditional  applications  of  prophecy,  whether  due  to 
the  devout  rhetoric  of  the  early  Church,  or  to  the  very  im- 
perfect criticism  of  St.  Jerome  f  in  his  Vulgate,  either  parts 
of  the  faith,  or  perilous  supports  of  it.  It  can  readily  wel- 
come with  hearty  gratitude  whatever  discovery  in  science,  or 
language,  or  history,  may  so  far  dissociate  from  the  Jews 
those  who  may  yet,  like  the  Jews,  remain  children  of  a 
Divine  promise  ;  nor  is  it  with  dismay,  but  with  thanksgiving, 
that  it  sees  many  of  their  temporal  images,  time  after  time, 
give  way  to  that  eternal  pattern  which  Moses  saw  in  the 
Mount,  and  which  the  servants  of  God  may  now  see  more 

*  The  Apostles  felt  goodness,  and  inferred  God.  We  assume  God^ 
and  demand  acknowledgment  of  goodness.  Which  of  these  is  the  more 
wholesome  argument  ?  The  answer  may  somewhat  depend  upon  what 
conception  of  Deity  we  start  with. 

t  In  Haggai  ii.  7,  the  Hebrew  says  desires,  or  desirable  things,  and  the 
context  shows  silver  and  gold  to  be  intended.  But  St.  Jerome  said, 
Veniet  desideratus  omnibus  gentibus,  and  we  have  followed  in  his  track. 
But  are  those  who  clamorously  make  such  things  proofs  of  Christianity 
its  friends  1 


162  THE    SPIRIT   AND   THE   LETTER. 

dearly  revealed  to  them  in  conscience,  and  experience,  and 
understanding.  For  'that  which  is  written  in  the  nature  of 
things  is  shown  us  by  God. 

But  if  persons  thus  thinking  are  less  restrained  from  the 
free  adoption  of  whatever  consequences  the  mind  may  work 
out,  so  long  as  it  works  in  righteousness,  they  are  far  more 
bound  to  purge  their  mind's  eye,  and  to  keep  the  whiteness  of 
their  soul  unspotted  from  evil.  For  their  faith  has  only 
ceased  to  be  a  congeries  of  human  propositions,  that  it  may 
better  become  a  divine  life.  And  although  some  of  them 
may  meditate  with  Butler,  how  far  the  mysterious  grace  of 
God  is  given  us  on  a  system,  so  that,  if  we  saw  the  whole 
range  of  things,  it  would  appear  to  us  regular  and  natural, 
rather  than  contra-natural,  yet  the  belief  in  that  "  Spirit 
which  is  holy,  supreme,  and  life-giving,"  *  is  far  more  a  gov- 
erning principle  of  their  lives,  than  can  ever  be  the  case 
with  men  who  substitute  the  bonds  of  system  for  those  of 
truth,  and  the  letter  for  the  spirit. 

Hence  it  will  be  found,  all  great  reformers,  either  of  life 
or  institutions,  have  had  something  in  them  of  the  spirit  we 
now  speak  of.  Nor  has  it  been  quite  unknown  even  to  men 
in  other  respects  of  most  opposite  views :  it  has  burst  forth, 
now  in  that  earnest  preaching  which  rent  the  veil  of  the  in- 
visible world,  and  made  men  tremble  or  exult  at  the  present 
realities  of  judgment  or  salvation  ;  and  it  has  wrought  again 
in  those  who  reared  once  more  the  standard  of  the  Cross  as 
a  thing  to  live  by,  in  a  luxurious  and  garrulous  age  ;  it  allies 
itself  most  eminently  to  the  Gospel,  but  it  can  also  flow 
along  the  channels  of  the  Church ;  its  more  prominent  ad- 
vocates in  England  have  been  men  whose  eccentricity  some- 
what marred  their  usefulness,  but  it  may  well  harmonize 
with  the  affectionate  soberness  of  that  Prayer-book,  which  it 
should  forbid  us  to  sever,  so  widely  as  we  do,  from  the  in- 
spiration of  our  Bible.  It  woke  in  Reginald  Pecock  some 
presage  of  the  Reformation,  when  as  yet  this  College  was 

*  NicoQO  Crood. 


OR   THE    TRUTH   AND    THE    BOOK.  163 

not ;  it  found  no  obscure  utterance  in  Hooker,  when  he  taught 
that  "  the  rules  of  right  conduct  are  the  dictates  of  right 
reason " ;  it  is  assumed,  either  tacitly  or  expressly,  in  the 
grand  discourse  of  Jeremy  Taylor;  it  is  more  formally  put 
forward  by  Barclay,  whose  broad  and  unqualified  propositions 
ai-e  yet  on  more  than  one  account  well  worthy  of  behig 
studied ;  it  moves,  though  in  fetters,  across  the  pages  of  the 
more  learned  Puritans,  and  especially  of  Milton ;  it  takes  a 
form  of  wisdom,  toleration,  and  faith,  amidst  the  vast  learning 
of  Cudworth,  and  his  kindred  teachers  of  a  godly  humanity  ;  * 
it  is  not  alien  to  the  Evangelical  Platonism  of  Leighton  ;  nor 
is  it  quite  quenched  by  the  arrogant  temper  of  Warburton, 
whose  learning  and  whose  courage  alike  led  him  to  acknowl- 
edge some  light  in  the  Gentile  world ;  but  with  greater  fond- 
ness it  loved  to  linger  amid  the  deep  reasonings  of  Butler, 
prevented  only  by  his  Laodicean  age  from  bearing  in  him  its 
full  fruit ;  it  took  a  form  of  subtle  idealism,  and  allied  itself 
to  "  every  virtue  "  in  Berkeley ;  it  had  no  mean  representative 
in  this  place,  in  the  thoughtful  candor  of  Professor  Hey,  over 
whose  moderation  any  brief  triumph  of  zeal  in  our  time  may 
only  pave  the  way  for  a  dangerous  reaction  ;  it  sounds,  not 
ineloquently,  but  too  uncertainly,  from  the  deep  struggles  of 
Coleridge ;  and  it  found  a  happier  expounder  in  him  whose 
recent  loss  we  may  well  deplore,  the  Guesser  at  Truth,  and 
the  preacher  of  the  Victory  of  Faith.  Est  et  hodie,  nunc 
tacendus :  olim  nominabitur.  In  our  own  time,  indeed,  those 
who  entertain  it  at  all  have  felt  themselves  urged  alike  on  the 
negative  side  by  the  necessities  of  historical  criticism,  and  on 
the  positive  by  the  deep  hunger  of  men's  spiritual  affections, 
to  cross  over  more  and  more  from  the  scribe  to  the  apostle, 
from  the  letter  to  the  spirit,  from  the  formula  to  the  feeling 
which  engendered  it. 

How  many  questions  now  arise  before  me  which  time  will 
not  permit  to  handle  at  due  length !  Will  this  freedom,  which 
even  the  highest  controller  of  our  destiny  is  in  some  measure 

*  E.  g  John  Smith,  who  has  been  praised  in  such  opposite  quarters. 


164  THE    SPIRIT   AND    THE   LETTER, 

awakening  among  us,  always  know  where  to  stop  ?  It  will  bo 
led,  perhaps,  by  the  inexorable  laws  of  historical  criticism  to 
alter  our  modes  of  conceiving  of  some  portions  of  Hebrew 
literature,  which  are  comprehended  in  our  Bible ;  and  even 
questions  apparently  barren  may  sometimes,  to  the  scholar, 
be  fruitful  in  inferences.*  It  may  also  observe  so  much  of 
local  or  sensible  imagery,!  in  describing  things  which  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  that  it  may  almost  indefinitely 
lessen  the  field  of  intellectual  definition,  though  sparing  that 
of  conscientious  expectation.  It  may,  for  instance,  somewhat 
merge  the  doctrine  of  a  resurrection  in  the  idea  of  immortal- 
ity ;  I  and  it  may  lay  not  so  much  stress  on  a  day  of  judg- 
ment, as  on  a  Divine  retribution.  But  will  it  also  apply  St. 
Paul's  idea  of  our  Lord's  laying  down  his  mediatorial  king- 
dom, §  not  to  any  one  moment  hereafter,  but  to  that  period, 
whatever  it  may  be,  in  each  man's  life,  when  he  has  been 
brought  by  the  Son  to  the  Father,  —  so  that  it  shall  be  no 
longer  necessary  for  the  Son  to  pray  for  men  ||  so  enlightened, 
since  the  Father  himself  loves  them,  because  they  have  con- 
ceived of  him  according  to  the  picture  revealed  of  him  in  his 
well-beloved  Son  ?  How  far  will  this  be  a  dangerous  intensi- 
fication of  what  is  yet  a  true  feeling  of  the  economic  nature 

*  It  is  morally  certain,  that  the  books  of  Joshaa  and  of  Daniel  are 
each  four  hundred  years  later  tlian  the  date  ordinarily  ascribed  to  each ; 
and  this  fact  leads  to  inferences  which  it  would  be  wise  to  meet  practically, 
by  either  modifying  our  cycle  of  Old  Testament  lessons,  o:  by  giving 
the  clergyman  at  his  discretion  a  liberty  of  doing  so. 

t  If  any  one  considers  the  various  opinions  on  the  state  of  disembodied 
souls  before  the  day  of  judgment,  he  will  find  them  turn  on  a  clash  of 
conflicting  mfetaphors,  or  on  a  balance  of  allusions,  each  borrowed  from 
gome  temporal  usage. 

I  As  Bishop  Butler  evidently  did,  but  Isaac  Taylor's  Physical  Theory 
of  a  Future  Life  may  Imj  read  on  the  other  side. 

^  Bead  carefully  I  Corinthians  xv.  24  -  28 ;  but  compare  Pearson  on 
Sitting  on  the  Right  Hand,  in  the  Creed.  It  was  reckoned  a  peculinrity 
in  the  profound  Origen  that  he  prayed  only  to  the  Father  through  the 
Son  ;  but,  at  the  altar,  the  whole  African  Church,  and  periiaps  the 
Church  Catholic,  did  so. 

II  St.  John's  Gospel  xvi.  25-27;  Colossions  i.  15. 


OR    THE    TRUTH    AND    THE    BOOK.  165 

of  the  office  of  the  Mediator  1  Or  will  the  same  spirit  go  so 
far  with  any,  as  to  think  it  unimportant  through  what  imagery 
God  may  frame  in  us  thoughts  of  things  ineffable ;  so  that 
whether  memory  or  fancy  lend  the  shadow,  and  whether 
faith  *  be  nourished  more  from  fact  or  from  thought,  still  the 
real  crisis  of  our  souls  shall  hang  upon  our  ever  holding  fast  that 
eternal  substance  of  the  Divine  Light,  the  radiance  of  which 
is  wisdom,  and  truth,  and  love,  and  which  enhghteneth  every 
man,  both  at  its  coming  into  the  world  in  the  flesh,  and  also 
long  before  ?  This  last  would  sound  like  a  dangerous  revival 
of  Gnostic  imaginations.  Yet  would  .even  the  wildest  flight 
of  such  aberrations  be  so  dangerous  to  the  spirit  of  religion, 
as  that  secular-minded  Ebionitism  into  which  the  opposite 
tendency,  the  mere  sifting  of  the  letter,  is  ever  apt  to  drift, 
the  moment  it  escapes  from  the  influence  of  tradition  ?  To 
answer  all  such  questions  would  require  a  prophet  rather 
than  a  preacher.  One  thing,  however,  is  clear,  and  that  I 
desire  to  say  very  seriously ;  the  spirit  of  inquiry  is  most 
likely  to  go  hand  in  hand  with  reverence,  if  no  other  checks 
be  imposed  upon  it  than  such  as  come  of  conscience  and  of 
truth.  This  also,  brethren,  let  us  be  unshakably  persuaded 
of,  whatever  other  things  fail,  the  attempt  to  realize  in  our- 
selves the  mind  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus  has  never  been 
found  to  fail  any  man.  This,  after  all,  seems  to  be  what 
constitutes  a  Christian. 

The  prospects  of  an  attack  must  depend  very  much  upon 
the  conduct  of  the  defenders.  If  those  who  have  leisure, 
learning,  and  authority  encourage  persons  less  informed,  not 
merely  in  entertaining  as  opinions,  but  in  asserting  as  foun- 
dations of  the  faith,  things  which  scholars  are  ashamed  to 
say,  there  must  come  a  crash  of  things  perishable,  in  which 
also  things  worth  preserving  may  suffer  shipwreck.  Whereas, 
if  the  same  persons  were  wise  to  distinguish  eternal  meaning 
from  temporal  shape,  it  would  still  prove  that,  though  the 
Church  is  beaten  by  waves,  yet  she  is  founded  on  a  rock. 

*  Compare  Hebrews,  tenth  and  eleventh  chapters. 


ON  THE  CAUSES  WHICH  PROBABLY  CONSPIRED 
TO  PRODUCE  OUR  SAVIOUR'S  AGONY.* 

Br  EDWARD  HARWOOD,  D.  D. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

The  following  Dissertation  was  composed  about  fourteen 
years  ago.  Upon  reviewing  it,  I  saw  no  reason  to  depart 
from  the  theory  and  sentiments  it  advances.  The  manner  in 
which  it  is  compiled  requests  the  reader's  candid  and  favor- 
able censure.  The  reason  which  originally  induced  me  to 
write  it  was  my  dissatisfaction  with  the  schemes  which  gloomy 
and  systematic  divines  have  devised  to  account  for  our  Lord's 
agony;  some  ascribing  it  to  the  unappeased  wrath  of  Al- 
mighty God,  now  hurled  in  all  its  tremendous  vehemence 
upon  this  illustrious  sufferer;  others,  to  the  temptation  and 
onset  of  the  Devil,  into  whose  tyranny,  during  this  hour  of 
darkness,  he  was  freely  delivered ;  and  others  to  the  whole 
accumulated  weight  of  the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  which  the 
wisdom  and  justice  of  God  appointed  that  he  should  now  sus- 
tain, in  order  that  he  might  experimentally  feel  their  infinite 
demerit,  and,  by  supporting  in  his  own  person  the  oppressive 
load,  accomplish  the  proper  atonement  and  expiation  of  them. 
I  hope  an  attempt  to  vindicate  the  equity,  rectitude,  and  good- 
ness of  God,  and  to  justify  the  conduct  of  our  Lord  on  this 

*  First  published  in  London,  1772. 


168  ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR'S    AGONY. 

occasion,  by  evincing  that  there  is  nothing  in  this  transaction 
which  eclipses,  or  in  the  least  diminishes  the  lustre  of  his 
divine  character,  will  be  deemed  laudable,  however  I  may 
have  failed  in  the  execution  of  my  design.  I  had  not  seen, 
till  within  these  few  weeks,  Mr.  Moore's  excellent  pamphlet 
on  this  subject,  which  was  pubUshed  by  Doctors  Lardner  and 
Fleming,  and  printed  by  Noon,  1757.  It  gives  me  great 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  as  it  is  no  small  confirmation  of  this 
Essay,  to  find  that  the  reflections  and  sentiments  of  this 
ingenious  writer  on  this  subject  have  so  happily  coincided 
and  harmonized  with  my  own. 


DISSERTATION. 

By  the  adversaries  of  our  divine  religion  it  has  often  been 
suffgested  that  the  concludinpr  scenes  of  our  Redeemer's  life 

Co  o 

are  attended  with  circumstances  which  reflect  no  great  honor 
upon  his  character.  From  that  expression,  My  God!  my 
God !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  one  of  the  most  eminent 
of  the  Deists  asserteth,  that  our  Saviour,  a  little  before  his 
death,  publicly  renounced  the  cause  in  which  he  had  been 
engaged,  and  even  died  in  that  renunciation.  How  injurious 
and  false  this  aspersion  is,  need  not  be  evinced,  since  the 
whole  tenor  of  our  Saviour's  history  contradicts  it,  and  every- 
where displays  a  most  exalted  and  consummate  virtue.  It  is 
in  the  highest  degree  absurd  to  suppose  that  our  Jjovd  should 
publicly  abjure  his  religion,  and  yet  die  to  confirm  it  and  give 
it  its  last  sanction.  He  came  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth, 
and  he  gave  the  strongest  proof  of  the  justness  of  his  preten- 
sions to  the  character  he  assumed,  that  he  was  the  Messiah 
and  Lawgiver  of  the  world,  and  that  the  cause  in  which  he 
had  embarked  wju*  the  cause  of  God  and  Truth,  for  he  sealed 
this  cause  with  his  blood. 

His  agony  in  the  garden  of  Getlisemane  has  been  very 
undeservedly  the  subject  of  calumny  and  detniction.  It  has 
not  infrequently  been  intimated,  that  during  this  scene  of 


ON    TUE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's    AGONY.  169 

sufferings  our  Lord's  behavior  was  very  far  from  being  con- 
sistent with  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  that  he  meanly  and  ab- 
jectly shuddered  at  the  prospect  of  calamities  wliich,  notwith- 
standing, it  was  his  destiny  to  meet.*  Persons,  who  have 
rejected  Christianity,  and  alleged  the  causes  of  their  rejecting 
it,  have  insinuated,  among  other  things,  that  this  agony  of 
grief  hath  all  the  appearance  of  a  dishonorable  timidity,  that 
our  Saviour  in  a  dispirited  manner  sunk  under  the  afflictions 
which  he  had  rashly  brought  upon  himself,  by  assuming  the 
character  of  a  Reformer,  —  whereas,  if  he  had  been  conscious 
that  his  doctrines  were  true,  and  that  his  mission  was  divinely 
authorized,  he  would  hav-e  sustained  them  with  an  heroic 
fortitude  and  magnanimity  worthy  such  a  cause.  Instead  of 
this,  in  the  prospect  of  his  last  sufferings,  he  is  overwhelmed 
in  despondency,  and  betrays  a  pusillanimity  unworthy  a  com- 
mon philosopher.  Instead  of  embracing  with  virtuous  trans- 
port so  noble  an  occasion,  now  offered  him,  of  attesting  the 
truth  of  his  mission  and  ministry  by  sufferings,  he  shrinks 
back  at  the  view  of  them,  falls  into  dishonorable  tremors,  is 
plunged  into  the  last  terror  and  confusion,  and  with  vehement 
importunity  implores  Almighty  God  to  extricate  and  save 
him  from  them.     Let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ! 

But  if  we  impartially  consider  the  history  in  which  this 
agony  of  distress  and  sorrow  is  recorded,  we  shall  be  con- 
vinced that  it  was  not  want  either  of  virtue  or  of  fortitude  to 
sustain  his  impending  sufferings,  which  dictated  these  words. 
There  is  nothing  in  them  inconsistent  with  the  general  tenor 
of  his  conduct,  —  nothing  in  them  that  can  make  us  suspect 
the  truth  of  his  pretensions,  or  that  in  the  least  diminishes 
the  divine  worth  and  dignity  of  his  character.  Our  Saviour 
was  clothed  with  human  nature,  and  is  he  to  be  censured  for 
having  the  sensibilities  of  human  nature  ?  Is  his  conduct  to 
be  loaded  with  reproach  and  contumely,  because  he  was  not 
a  proud,  unfeeling  Stoic,t  and  did  not  manifest  an  entire 

*  Sec  Voltaire's  late  treatise  Sur  la  Tolerance. 

t  **  Was  there  not  something  pusillanimous  and  inconstant  in  this  part 
15 


170  ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR*S    AGONY. 

apathy  and  insensibility  in  his  sufferings?  Is  it  any  dis- 
paragement to  our  blessed  Lord,  any  imputation  on  his  wis- 
dom or  his  virtue,  that  he  was  affected  with  the  sorrows  and 
sufferings  of  humanity  ?  "  Jesus,"  as  a  judicious  writer  has 
well  observed,  "  was  sensible  of  his  own  and  others'  suffer- 
ings, and  conceived  a  dread  and  horror  at  them.  He  was  so 
sore  amazed  and  full  of  grief  as  earnestly  to  pray,  that,  if  it 
were  possible,  the  cup  might  pass  away  from  him.  A  true 
picture  this  cf  genuine  humanity  in  distress.  It  is  natural  to 
us  to  hate  pain,  and  to  have  an  abhorrence  of  misery.  The 
constitution  of  our  beings  requires  it  should  be  so.  It  is  the 
first  and  strongest  principle  the  Creator  hath  cast  into  the 
human  frame.  The  philosophy  taught  in  the  heathen  world 
by  Zeno  and  his  followers,  that  pains  and  afflictions  are  no 
evils,  and  that  a  wise  man  should  be  hardened  against  all 
sense  of  them,  was  truly  perversive,  not  perfective  of  the 
nature  of  man.     To  feel  calamities  when  they  come  upon  us, 

of  our  Saviour*8  conduct  ?  I  answer,  No.  Those  expressions  are  far 
too  narsh,  and  cannot  be  applied  to  our  Lord  without  manifest  injustice. 
He.  had  not,  indeed,  that  intrepidity,  for  which  the  rude  heroes  of  history 
arc  celebrated,  who  were  fearless  and  undaunted  in  their  greatest  dan- 
gers. What  then  ?  "Was  a  chanicter  expected  in  him  that  required  a 
peculiar  warmth  of  the  blood  and  juices,  and  the  impetus  of  some  crimi- 
nal passion,  to  form  and  exhibit  ?  Natural  courage  is  well  known  to  be 
mechanical,  and  to  rise  and  fall  with  a  certain  temperature  of  the  body. 
The  pa.ssions,  says  Mr.  Grove,  which  have  most  filled  the  world  with 
heroes,  are  vainglory,  and  a  dread  of  the  reproach  of  cowardice.  Moral 
Philosophy,  Vol.  II.  p.  259.  What  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  blessed 
Jesus  is  a  perfectly  moral  character.  Now  a  manly,  virtuous  courage  is 
so  far  from  lx:ing  incompatible  ^^ith,  that  it  supposes,  fear.  For  as  that 
is  inspired  with  a  sense  of  what  is  just  and  honorable,  the  fear  of  infamy 
to  one's  self,  or  of  injury  to  others,  must  needs  take  place,  inasmuch  as 
the  objects  are  evils  that  ought,  if  possible,  to  lie  avoided,  and  when  aod 
in  whomsoever  those  fears  shall  coincide  with  the  natural  fear  of  death,  a 
passive  fortitu«le  is  all  that  can  be  expected. 

"  And  as  to  incomtancy  of  mind,  I  ask,  Wlio  is  there  among  the  sons 
of  men,  or  what  are  they,  whom  the  circumstances  of  time  and  place,  in 
respect  to  a  cniel  and  ignominious  death,  will  not  sensibly  affect  ?  A 
person,  doomed  to  suffer  as  a  state  criminal,  may  indeed  put  on  the  »toie 
on  such  an  occasion,  and  in  point  of  prudence,  as  it  is  called,  or  for  the 


ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR'S    AGONY.  171 

or  upon  others,  and  to  give  vent  to  our  tears,*  is  much  more 
congruous  and  suitable  to  our  frame  and  station,  than  the 
apathy  and  rant  of  the  Stoics.  We  are  connected  with  flesh 
and  blood,  made  with  selfish  and  social  affections  and  passions, 
and  placed  here  in  a  state  of  discipline ;  and  a  tender,  suscep- 
tible temper  better  becomes  us,  and  will  sooner  perfect  our 
virtue,  than  insensibility  and  foolhardiness.  This  considera- 
tion alone,  if  there  were  none  other,  should  make  us  not 
ashamed  of  Jesus  in  his  agony  in  the  garden,  or  on  the 
cross."  t 

The  following  account  of  this  awful  scene  is  exhibited  by 
the  four  Evangelists.  "  When  Jesus  had  spoken  these  words 
[that  consolatory  discourse  recorded  in  the  fourteenth,  fif- 
teenth, and  sixteenth  chapters  of  St.  John's  Gospel]  he  went 
forth  with  his  disciples  over  the  brook  Cedron,  where  was  a 
garden  [Gethsemane],  into  which  he  entered  and  his  disciples. 
And  he  saith  to  the  disciples.  Sit  ye  here,  while  I  go  and 

sake  of  his  honor,  stifle  his  passions  from  the  view  of  others.  And  no 
doubt  but  that  this  has  often  been  the  case.  But  our  Lord  acted  upon 
no  such  mean  motives.  He  felt  things  to  impress  him  differently,  and  he 
told  what  he  felt.  The  mind  is  not  answerable  for  these  different  impres- 
sions. They  are  unavoidable  to  it,  and  the  result  of  the  human  frame. 
Had  not  Jesus  shown  a  reluctancy  to  the  evils  now  before  him,  the  reality 
of  his  sufferings  might  justly  have  been  called  in  question.  And  so  far 
was  he  in  this  his  behavior  from  acting  an  inconsistent  or  inconstant  part, 
that,  notwithstanding  he  felt  a  greater  uneasiness  to  himself  than  at  any 
other  time,  he  stood  firm  to  the  noble  resolution  he  had  foniied,  of  an 
entire  submissive  obedience  to  the  Divine  Will.  There  is  then  no  im- 
peachment of  the  courage  and  constancy  of  our  Lord.  His  character 
remains  unsullied,  yea,  shines  through  the  darkest  cloud  that  ever  passed 
over  him."  —  Moore  on  our  Saviour's  Agony,  pp.  88  -  90. 

*  They  who  of  all  writers  undertake  to  imitate  nature  most,  oft  intro- 
duce even  their  heroes  weeping.  See  how  Homer  represents  Ulysses, 
Od.  I.  ver.  151  ;  II.  ver.  7,  8.  The  tears  of  men  are  in  truth  very  differ- 
ent from  the  cries  and  ejulations  of  children.  They  are  silent  streams, 
and  flow  from  other  causes ;  commonly  some  tender,  or  perhaps  philo- 
sophical, reflection.  It  is  easy  to  see  how  hard  hearts  and  dry  eyes  come 
to  be  fashionable.  But,  for  all  that,  it  is  certain  the  glandulxje  lachrymales 
are  not  made  for  nothing.    Religion  of  Nature  Delineated,  p.  139,  note. 

t  Moore  on  our  Saviour's  Agony,  pp.  102,  103. 


J  72  ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SA^aOUTl'S   AGONY. 

pmy  yonder.  And  he  took  with  him  Peter  and  the  two  sons 
of  Zebedee,  and  began  to  be  sorrowful,  to  be  sore  amazed, 
and  very  heavy.  And  he  saith  to  them,  My  soul  is  exceed- 
ing sorrowful,  even  unto  death :  tarry  ye  here  and  watch. 
And  he  was  withdrawn  from  them  ^bout  a  stone's  cast,  and 
fell  on  the  ground  and  prayed,  saying,  O  ray  Father,  if  it  be 
possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me !  nevertheless,  not  my  will, 
but  thine,  be  done !  And  he  cometh  unto  the  disciples,  and 
findeth  them  fast  asleep,  and  saith  unto  Peter,  What,  could 
ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ?  Watch  ye  and  pray,  lest 
ye  enter  into  temptation ;  the  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak.  He  went  away  the  second  time,  and  prayed,  O  my 
Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  from  me,  except  I  drink 
it,  thy  will  be  done !  And  he  came  and  found  them  asleep 
again,  for  their  eyes  were  heavy,  neither  wist  they  what  to 
answer  him.  And  he  left  them  and  went  away  again,  and 
prayed  the  third  time,  saying  the  same  words.  And  there 
appeared  an  angel  unto  him  from  heaven,  strengthening  him. 
And  being  in  an  agony,  he  prayed  more  earnestly,  and  his 
sweat  was,  as  it  were,  great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to 
the  ground.  And  when  he  rose  from  prayer,  and  was  come 
to  his  disciples,  he  found  them  sleeping  for  sorrow ;  and  he 
saith  unto  them,  Sleep  on  now  and  take  your  rest:  it  is 
enough,  the  hour  is  come :  behold,  the  Son  of  Man  is  be- 
trayed into  the  hands  of  sinners."  *  Let  the  reader  figure  to 
himself  our  Lord's  situation  at  this  time,  and  consider  what 
images  must  necessarily  obtrude  upon  his  mind.  His  ministry 
was  now  closed,  —  he  was  in  a  few  momenta  to  be  appre- 
hended and  treacherously  delivered  into  the  power  of  those 
who  had  long  thirsted  for  his  blood,  —  liis  beloved  disciples 
were  going  to  abandon  him  in  his  adversity,  —  and  in  two  days* 
time,  by  wicked  hands,  he  would  be  crucified  and  slain.  Jesus 
now  ha<l  a  strong  conscious  perception  of  all  these  impending 
calamities.     Let  the  reader's  imagination  represent  to   him 


♦  I  have  formed  the  aevfral  circumstances  related  by  differmi  EvongC' 
lists  into  one  continued  narrative. 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR   SAVIOUR'S    AGONY.         173 

the  state  of  our  Saviour's  mind  in  this  awful  crisis;  and 
with  the  full  idea  of  his  situation  before  him,  let  him  con- 
sider, whether  the  following  painful  reflections  crowding  into 
his  soul,  in  this  melancholy  hour,  might  not  naturally  produce 
that  scene  of  distress  and  horror  the  sacred  writers  have 
recorded. 

Section   I. 

One  cause  which  no  doubt  greatly  contributed  to  distress 
our  blessed  Saviour,  now  his  ministry  was  concluded,  was  the 
distressing  reflection  that  his  painful  labors  and  benevolent  at- 
tempts to  convert  and  reform  the  Jews  had  proved  generally 
unsuccessful.  In  the  fulness  of  time  God  the  Father  had  sent 
him  from  heaven  among  men,  and  empowered  him  to  work 
many  stupendous  and  beneficent  miracles  in  confirmation  of  his 
divine  mission  and  character.  In  the  space  of  three  years 
and  a  half,  he  had  in  person  visited  the  cities,  towns,  and 
villages  of  Judaea,  and  in  all  of  them  had  effected  such  aston- 
ishing operations  and  supernatural  cures,  as  could  evidently 
be  ascribed  to  nothing  but  to  the  immediate  power  and 
agency  of  God.  He  had  delivered  to  his  country  a  perfect 
system  of  religion  and  morals,  enforced  by  the  strongest  en- 
couragements, and  recommended  by  his  own  virtuous  and 
irreproachable  conduct.  And  yet  his  conduct,  his  doctrines, 
his  precepts,  his  miracles,  had  been  able  to  make  little  im- 
pression on  the  hearts  of  this  depraved  people.  They  de- 
spised the  meanness  of  his  birth  and  the  obscurity  of  his 
family.  They  were  prejudiced  against  the  place  of  his  edu- 
cation, and  declared  it  impossible  that  a  prophet  should  ever 
arise  out  of  Nazareth.  So  averse  had  they  been  from  all 
conviction  and  instruction,  and  so  deliberately  determined  to 
shut  their  eyes  against  the  clearest  light,  that  they  attributed 
the  most  amazing  displays  of  Divine  power  to  a  compact 
and  intercourse  with  Beelzebub.  This- man  doth  not  work 
miracles,  but  by  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils.  Instead 
of  attending  his  public  ministry  with  minds  sincerely  disposed 
for  the  reception  of  truth,  they  contrived  low  clandestine 
15* 


174         ON   THS    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's   AGONl. 

arts  to  ensnare  him,  and  hoped,  from  some  incautious  ex- 
pressions into  which  thej  might  betray  him,  to  accuse  him  as 
a  traitor  'to  the  Roman  government,  and  effectuate  his  con- 
demnation and  death  as  an  enemy  to  Caesar.  These  were  the 
illiberal  and  dishonorable  expedients  they  employed  to  murder 
the  Messiah.  Are  such  principles  and  dispositions  as  these 
friendly  to  truth  and  virtue  ?  Is  a  nation,  which  manifests 
such  a  character  as  this,  and  frames  such  measures  as  these 
against  the  life  of  a  holy  and  good  man  for  remonstrating 
against  their  superstition,  bigotry,  and  immoralities,  to  be 
convinced  by  the  force  of  evidence,  and  moved  by  the 
charms  of  an  amiable  example  ?  So  far  were  they  from 
examining  his  doctrines  and  pretensions  to  the  high  character 
he  assumed,  with  coolness  and  candor,  that  they  practised 
every  method  to  prevent  them  from  being  admitted,  and  ex- 
cluded those  from  their  synagogues  Avho  openly  professed 
them.  How  determined  and  inveterate  their  virulence  was 
against  our  Lord's  person  and  usefulness,  we  may  judge  from 
this  single  most  egregious  instance  of  it,  their  solemnly  de- 
liberating in  council  to  destroy  Lazarus,  merely  for  being  the 
subject  of  one  of  his  miracles.*  Impossible,  therefore,  was 
it  for  our  Saviour  to  propagate  his  religion  in  a  nation  so 
prejudiced  and  depraved.  All  his  attempts  to  make  them 
virtuous  and  everlastingly  happy  proved  ineffectual. 

Now  this  wrung  his  benevolent  heart  with  the  acutest 
anguish.  The  consideration  tliat  his  country  should  have 
rejected  that  system  of  divine  truths  lie  had  been  delegated 
from  God  his  Father  to  deliver  to  them,  overwhelmed  him 
in  the  deepest  sorrow  and  distress.  Wlien  he  now  reviewed 
the  past  years  of  his  ministry,  it  filled  him  with  great  and 
painful  concern,  that  his  miracles  had  been  so  numerous,  but 
his  success  so  yevy  inconsiderable.  He  had  made  it  the 
uniform  study  of  his  life  to  diffuse  happiness  around  him, 
to  do  good  to  the  souls  and  bodies  of  men,  had  peribrmed 


^  "  But  the  chief  priests  consulted  that  they  might  put  Lazarus  also  to 
death."    John  xu.  10. 


ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR'S    AGONY.  175 

tlie  most  benevolent  cures,  taught  the  most  excellent  doo 
trines,  exhibited  a  perfect  character,  to  engage  his  country 
to  embrace  a  religion  which  came  recommended  and  enforced 
by  so  many  evidences  of  its  credibility  and  divine  authority. 
But  what  converts  had  he  made,  what  effects  had  the  cause 
of  God  and  truth,  of  liberty  and  immortahty,  produced? 
This  was  the  painful  reflection  which  now  wounded  his  soul 
He  had  come  to  his  own,  but  his  own  had  not  received  him ! 
That  nation,  whose  guardian  angel  he  had  probably  ever 
been,  and  whom  he  had  anxiously  superintended  in  every 
period  of  time  and  change  of  government,  had  now  rejected 
his  person  and  his  doctrines,  and  were  going  to  imbrue  their 
hands  in  his  blood  as  an  impostor.  This  disingenuity  and 
ingratitude  transfixed  his  soul,  and  a  painful  review  of  the 
insuperable  prejudices,  enormous  corruptions,  and  determined 
impenitency  of  his  country  must  necessarily  oppress  him,  in 
this  hour  of  darkness,  with  very  deep  distress,  and  contribute 
its  weight  of  woes  to  produce  that  agony  which  he  now 
endured. 

Section  II. 

Another  cause  which  conduced  to  occasion  this  extreme 
dejection  and  sorrow  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  was  the  percep- 
tion he  had  that  he  would  immediately  be  abandoned  by  all 
his  disciples  and  friends  in  these  his  last  extremities.  If  my 
readers  have  ever  known,  by  unhappy  experience,  the  cruelty 
and  infelicity  of  being  deserted  by  a  friend,  at  a  time  of  im- 
pending adversity  and  distress,  let  them  now  recall  to  mind 
what  they  suffered  on  that  occasion,  and  transfer  their  thoughts 
to  our  Saviour's  sensibilities  in  the  like  circumstances.  His 
disciples  had  been  the  companions  of  his  labors.  He  had 
selected  them  from  the  world  to  be  his  attendants  and  friends. 
To  them  he  had  unbosomed  his  soul.  Having  loved  his  own, 
he  loved  them  unto  the  end,  says  St.  John.  He  maintained  for 
them  a  most  faithful  and  affectionate  love,  from  the  time  he 
chose  them  to  the  last  period  of  his  life.  They  had  relin- 
quished their  families,  their  occupations,  and  all  their  con- 


176  ON   THE    CAUSES    OF   OUR   SAVIOUR's    AGONY. 

nections,  to  adhere  to  him  and  his  cause.  They  had  during 
the  whole  course  of  his  ministry  accompanied  him  from  place 
to  place,  and  mutually  shared  with  him  the  reproach  and 
odium  of  the  world.  But  O  dire  reverse !  O  Adversity, 
how  seldom  art  thou  a  witness  to  faithful  friendship !  The 
companions  of  his  labors,  from  whose  fidelity  he  might  rea- 
sonably expect  consolation,  and  whose  firm  adherence  to  his 
person  and  interests  he  might  naturally  hope  would  now  give 
a  sanction  to  the  cause  he  and  they  had  espoused,  dishonor- 
ably desert  him.  When  these  last  calamities  invade  him,  lo, 
they  fly,*  and  suffer  persecution  and  death  to  overwhelm  him, 
alone  and  unsupported.  At  a  time  when  probably  he  should 
want  the  aids  of  true  friendship  most,  to  attest  his  innocence 
and  assuage  his  sufferings,  they  have  abandoned  him,  and 
appear  ashamed  of  the  cause  in  which  they  had  all  em- 
barked. 

But  not  only  their  unfaithfulness  and  disgi'aceful  desertion 
of  him,  but  the  ingratitude  and  treachery  of  Judas,  no  doubt, 
in  these  moments  he  now  spent  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane, 
must  wound  his  generous  mind  with  the  most  cruel  anguish. 
We  find  that  this  baseness  of  Judas  gave  our  Lord  great 
distress.  "  When  Jesus  had  thus  said,  he  was  troubled  in 
spirit^  and  testified  and  said.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
one  of  you  shall  betray  me !  "  John  xiii.  21.  The  reflection, 
that,  in  that  small  number  whom  he  luid  selected  to  be  his 
particular  friends  and  companions,  one  should  prove  so  un 
grateful  and  perfidious  as  for  a  paltry  sum  to  betray  liim  to 
his  enemies,  and  that  in  a  very  short  time  he  should  see  this 
very  person,  whom  he  had  admitted  into  his  friendship,  head- 
ing a  mob  to  apprehend  him,  —  the  bitter  reflection  must  rend 
a  bosom  so  susceptible  as  our  Saviour's  appeareth  to  be. 
"  Great  minds  have  a  delicacy  in  their  perception.  They 
feel  ingratitude  more  than  others,  a£  they  are  less  deserving 


*  "  At  Bimul  Intonuit,  fiiffiunt,  nee  noscitnr  ulH, 
Aginiuibus  comitum  qui  modo  cinctus  crnt.'* 

Ovid.  Tnt, 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's   AGONY.  177 

of  it.  And  indeed  the  best  of  men  have  met  with  this  sort 
of  ill  usage.  David,  more  than  once,  deplores  the  like,  in 
language  which  shows  how  sensibly  he  was  touched.  '  Yea, 
my  own  familiar  friend,  in  whom  I  trusted,  who  did  eat  of 
my  bread,  hath  lift  up  his  heel  against  me.  For  it  was  not 
an  enemy  that  reproached  me,  then  I  could  have  borne  it ; 
but  it  was  thou,  a  man  mine  equal,  my  guide,  and  mine  ac 
quaintance.' "  * 

Such  was  the  situation  of  our  Saviour.  Rejected  by  the 
Jews  ;  abandoned  by  his  disciples.  The  review  of  life  pain- 
ful, the  immediate  prospect  full  of  horror.  Invaded  with 
such  complicated  distress,  can  we  wonder  that  he  should  so 
earnestly  implore  Almighty  God  to  save  him  from  this  hour, 
and  to  let  this  cup  pass  from  him  that  he  might  not  drink  it  ? 
It  is  the  natural  language  of  piety  and  virtue  in  distress :  the 
jQrst  prayer  which  a  dependent  creature  in  afflictive  circum- 
stances addresses  to  Heaven. 

^  Section  III. 

Another  cause  which  may  justly  be  assigned  to  account  for 
this  agony  and  the  petition  he  preferred  to  God,  was  the 
strong  perception  of  that  insult,  ignominy,  and  torture  he  was 
shortly  to  endure.  The  perception  of  these  dreadful  evils, 
we  may  reasonably  suppose,  greatly  impressed  his  mind,  and 
strongly  affected  his  exquisitely  tender  and  delicate  sensibili- 
ties. His  mind  anticipated  all  that  cruel  and  inhuman  treat- 
ment he  should  very  shortly  experience,  —  the  immediate 
arrest  and  seizure  of  his  person,  his  illegal  trial,  his  impris- 
onment as  an  impostor,  his  outrage  from  the  Roman  soldiers, 
who  would  treat  him  with  the  last  indignities,  scourge  him, 
clothe  him  in  robes  of  mock  royalty,  and  insult  him  as  the 
rival  and  enemy  of  Caisar,  —  and,  as  the  completion  of  all 
these  evils,  his  condemnation  to  suffer  the  ignominious  and 
excruciating  death  of  crucifixion.  Over  these  scenes  his 
mind  now  brooded.     He  had  the  full  idea  of  them  impressed 

*  See  Moore's  Inquiry,  p.  46. 


178         ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUK's   AGONT. 

on  his  soul.  In  the  dire  apprehension  of  these  impending 
horrors,  a  mind  possessed  of  such  exquisite  sensibihties  must 
suffer  great  depression.  The  view  of  these  approaching  evils 
forced  from  him  that  petition,  Father,  save  me  from  this 
hour !  By  which  is  manifestly  meant  the  hour  of  death,  as 
Grotius  judiciously  interprets  it.  It  is  to  this  the  author  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  refers,  when  he  says,  that  our 
Lord  in  the  days  of  his  flesh  offered  up  prayers  and  supplicar- 
tions,  with  strong  crying  and  tears,  unto  Him  that  was  able  to 
save  from  death.  Heb.  v.  7.  I  leave  it  to  my  reader's 
imagination  to  represent  the  situation  of  his  Saviour  in  these 
moments.  Let  any  person,  endowed  with  the  feelings  of 
humanity,  declare,  whether  in  such  circumstances  the  petition, 
Let  this  cup  pass  from  me,  be  not  natural  language,  and  an 
exit  big  with  barbarity,  contumely,  and  horror  is  not  to  be 
deprecated.  If  the  human  mind  shudders  at  the  fancied 
representation  of  pain  so  exquisite  and  durable,  and  a  death 
60  excruciating  and  reproachful,  who  can  with  any  consistency 
and  honor  censure  our  Saviour,  in  such  a  situation,  for  discov- 
ering a  sense  of  it  ?  We  might  as  reasonably  blame  him  for 
being  a  man,  and  for  having  the  common  affections,  feelings, 
and  sensations  of  human  nature.  Was  our  Saviour  a  frantic 
and  extravagant  Stoic,  whose  divine  tranquillity  pain  and 
human  evils  could  not  solicit  ?  Did  he  ever  teach  his  follow- 
ers that  pain  was  no  evil,  or  in  his  own  person  ever  discover 
a  totid  apathy  and  unconsciousness  of  the  calamities  and 
Bufferings  with  which  he  encountered?  Nothing  less  true. 
He  assumed  humanity,  and  had  all  the  sensibilities  of  hu- 
manity. He  had,  says  the  Apostle,  a  feeling  of  our  infirmi- 
ties, being  tempted  in  all  points  just  as  we  are.  Our  Loi*d 
discovered  great  sensibility  of  soul.  Jesus  wept, —  shed  tears 
at  the  grave  of  his  amiable  deceased  friend,  Lazarus.  Tears 
were  also  observed  to  stream  from  his  eyes,  when  he  looked 
down  upon  the  city  and  uttered  those  pathetic  expressions 
over  it.  O  that  thou,  even  thou,  hadst  known  the  tilings  that 
belong  to  thy  everlasting  peace ;  but  now  they  are  hidden 
from   thine   eyes!     He   had   an   exquisite   sense  of  human 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OLR    SAVIOUR's    AGONY.  179 

misery.  In  these  unhappy  exigencies  he  would  offer  up 
prayers  and  supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears.  And 
could  brutal  insult,  illegal  condemnation,  opprobrious  mockery, 
disgraceful  imprisonment,  cruel  buffeting  and  scourging,  a 
mock  investiture  with  royalty,  public  ignominy  and  crucifixion 
invade  his  heart,  unaffected  and  unimpressed  ?  Would  not 
the  certain  immediate  prospect  of  this  train  of  evils  make 
strong  impressions  on  a  mind  so  susceptible  of  strong  im- 
pressions? Had  he  met  and  sustained  the  shock  with  un- 
feeling unconcernedness,  and  supported  these  his  sufferings 
with  an  absolute  insensibility  of  them,  it  would  then  have 
been  asserted  that  he  was  not  really  invested  with  human 
nature,  and  that  the  assertions  of  his  historians,  that  he  was 
a  man,  were  entirely  hypothetical  and  imaginary.  If  he  had 
endured  these  evils  with  a  torpid  composure,  it  would  have 
been  said  that  he  never  felt  them,  and  that  the  human  form 
he  exhibited  to  the  world  was  merely  ideal  and  visionary. 
So  that  in  this  case  strong  objections  would  have  been  formed 
against  the  truth  and  reality  of  his  person.  Had  he  met  his 
sufferings  with  a  fearless  intrepidity,  and  appeared  in  the  midst 
of  them  with  an  idiot  serenity,  the  world,  I  am  persuaded, 
would  have  been  more  dissatisfied  with  his  conduct,  would 
have  formed  it  into  an  argument  against  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  rehgion,  and  reviled  its  author  as  a  frantic  Stoic  or 
an  unfeeling  enthusiast. 

Do  we  admire  some  of  the  philosophers  for  their  contempt 
of  pain  ?  Do  we  applaud  their  boasted  tranquillity  of  mind, 
which  no  tortures  could  discompose,  and  secretly  wish  that 
our  Lord  had  sustained  his  affliction  with  as  great  constancy 
and  fortitude  as  some  of  them  ?  But  let  me  freely  declare, 
that  if  we  admire  these  old  sages  for  their  doctrines  of  in- 
sensibiHty  of  pain,  and  for  their  serenity  of  mind  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  racking  disorders,  we  really  admire  them 
for  philosophical  madness,  and  a  wild,  extravagant,  infatuated 
quixotism.  Our  passions  are  part  of  our  nature.  They  can 
never  be  eradicated.  "We  can  by  no  arts  and  arguments 
amiihilate   our   sensibilities.     It  is  frenzy  to  attempt  or  to 


180  ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR'S    AGONY. 

uflf'ect  it.     Our  Saviour  never  taught,  or  practised  upon,  such 
an  unnatural  system.     lie  had  the  same  perception  of  human 
misery  with  ourselves,  and  suffered  in  the  conflict,  just  as  we 
do.     Dr.  Whitby  delivers  it  as  his  opinion,  that  this  extreme 
dejection  and  agony  of  our  Saviour  arose  from  the  strongly 
impressed   apprehension  of  those  dreadful  sufferings   which 
would  so  speedily  befall  hira,  and  further  says,  that  it  is  ex- 
tremely ditRcult  to  assign  any  other  cause  of  this  excess  of 
sorrow  and  dispiritedness  which  now  seized  him.     Some  con- 
siderable time  before,  the  thought  of  this  violent  exit  seems 
greatly  to  have  impressed  our  Saviour's  mind.     "  I  have  a 
baptism  to  be  baptized  with,  and  how  am  I  straitened  until  it 
be  accomplished !     Now  is  my  soul  troubled  :  but  what  shall 
I  say  ?    Father,   save  me   from  this   hour ! "     Consider  the 
wretchedness  of  such  a  death !     The  exquisite  torture  of  hav- 
ing the  hands  and  feet  perforated  with  nails,  being  fastened 
to  a  cross,  and  for  days  and  nights  continuing,  as  many  of 
these   wretches  did,  in  all  this  agonizing  pain,   till  all  the 
powers  of  life  were  exhausted  in  a  lingering  and  most  miser- 
able manner.     Think  of  this,  and  then  censure  our  blessed 
Lord  for  being  appalled  at  the  prospect.     Think  of  what  he 
suffered,  and  you  will  see   cause  to  justify  the  petition  he 
preferred   to   Heaven  amidst  these  pangs :  "  My  God !  my 
God !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? "     Impress  your  minds 
with  an  affecting  sense  of  a  person  so  illustrious,  of  innocence 
BO  distressed,  of  sufferings  so  intense  and  durable,  of  indig- 
nities and  insults  so  dishonorable  and  injurious,  of  a  death 
60  excruciating  and  full  of  horror,  and  of  such  a  spectacle 
displayed  before  angels  and  men,  and  then  reflect  whether 
his  agony  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane  may  not  be  accounted 
for.     Then  consider,  whether  you  cannot  rationoUy  account 
for  such  a  supplication  in  such  a  situation :  O  my  Father,  let 
this  cup  pass  from  me  I     It  was  the  near  prospect  and  antici- 
pation of  such  sufferings  and  such  an  exit  as  this,  which  made 
him,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  offer  up  the  most  importunate 
requests  and  suppliuitions,  with  strong  cries  and  tears,  to  that 
Being  who  was  able  to  extricate  him  from  death,  —  and  ho 
was  heard  in  that  he  feared. 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR   SAVIOUR*S    AGONY.  181 

Section  IV. 

It  is  lilglily  probable  that  at  this  time  our  Lord  had  a 
strong  perception  of  the  various  troubles  and  persecutions  to 
which  his  disciples  and  followers  would  be  subjected,  in  con- 
sequence of  their  attachment  to  him  and  his  religion.  This 
thought  would  greatly  depress  him,  and  deeply  wound  his 
tender  spirit.  And  I  make  no  doubt  but  the  prescience  and 
distinct  view  he  had  of  that  multiplicity  of  sorrows  and  suf- 
ferings which  would  invade  his  adherents  after  his  death, 
greatly  contributed  to  his  present  agony  and  extreme  dejec- 
tion. He  knew  they  had  to  contend  with  innumerable  diffi- 
culties in  attempting  to  reform  a  superstitious  and  corrupt 
world.  He  evidently  foresaw  that  the  system  of  religion  and 
morals  he  had  delivered  would  everywhere  be  spoken  against, 
would,  on  account  of  its  genius  and  nature,  prove  a  stumbling- 
block  to  the  Jews,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness.  He  knew 
that,  for  propagating  his  religion  in  the  world,  and  for  their 
inviolable  adherence  to  his  cause,  they  would  endure  the  most 
miserable  torments  and  deaths  which  the  genius  of  men  could 
devise,  or  the  cruelty  and  odium  of  persecutors  inflict.  All 
these  scenes  of  future  persecution  now  crowded  into  his  mind, 
and  the  painful  anticipation  overwhelmed  him.  It  was  his 
exquisite  benevolent  feelings  which  occasioned  this  extreme 
distress.  The  reflection  that  so  many  innocent  persons 
should  be  involved  in  these  calamities  for  embracing  and 
spreading  his  doctrine,  was  too  painful  for  him  to  support.* 
They  were  for  several  centuries  to  struggle  under  the  incum- 
bent weight  of  established  error  and  superstition,  —  prince 
and  magistrate,  priest  and  people,  would  be  confederated 
against  them,  —  they  were  to  wrestle,  not  only  against  flesh 
and  blood,  the  common  prejudices  of  mankind,  but  to  contend 
with  principalities  and  powers  and  spiritual   rulers   in  high 

*  Tcoi'Sf  yap  nXiov  (pcpca 
To  nevdos,  j)  kol  rrjs  eixrjs  "^vxrjs  nepi. 

Sophocles,  (Ed.  Tyran.,  y.  93. 
16 


182  ON   THE   CAUSES    OF   OUR   SAVIOUR's   AGONT. 

places ;  the  secular  sword  would  be  everywhere  unsheathed 
to  extirpate  the  cause  in  which  they  had  embarked;  they 
would  b6  driven  from  city  to  city,  from  countiy  to  country, 
Jews  and  Greeks  differing  in  other  things,  but  agreeing  in 
this,  to  exterminate  them  and  their  religion  from  the  world ; 
they  would  be  the  objects  of  such  implacable  odium  and 
detestation,  that  whoever  should  kill  them  would  be  esteemed 
as  doing  God  eminent  service  ;  they  were  to  endure  poverty 
and  indigence  for  their  unshaken  constancy  to  their  principles, 
to  wander  about  in  deserts  and  mountains,  and  to  seek  refuge 
in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  being  destitute,  afflicted,  tor- 
mented ;  they  were  to  be  precipitated  into  prisons  and  dun- 
geons, to  be  exposed  to  the  fury  of  wild  beasts,  to  afford 
sport  and  diversion  for  a  brutal  rabble,  and  to  be  made  a 
spectacle  to  the  world,  to  angels  and  men ;  for  the  sake  of 
Christ  they  were  to  be  killed  all  the  day  long,  to  be  accounted 
as  sheep  for  the  slaughter.  These  subsequent  calamities  our 
Lord  perfectly  knew.  He  saw  the  gathering  storm  which 
would  soon  break  over  their  heads.  He  had  met  with  every 
injury  and  indignity  for  his  endeavors  to  reform  a  wicked 
nation,  and  from  his  own  experience  he  knew  that  the  same 
principles  and  conduct  in  them  would  produce  the  same  con- 
sequences, and  render  them  equally  obnoxious  to  a  depraved 
world.  He  knew  they  had  every  opposition  to  expect  from 
those  whose  religious  errors  they  condemned,  and  whose  im- 
moralities they  freely  censured  ;  that  superstitious  and  wicked 
persons,  of  all  others,  would  most  strenuously  exert  them- 
selves to  destroy  a  kingdom  of  truth  and  righteousness,  bjr 
murdering  those  who  attempted  to  erect  and  establish  it 
Tiiis  reflection  awakened  all  his  tenderness,  and  his  benevo- 
lence made  him  feel  exquisite  anguish  for  his  faithful,  suffering 
followers.  Here  his  affections  were  powerfully  excited,  and 
his  painful  solicitude  for  the  future  fortunes  of  his  disciples 
overpowered  his  soul.  He  loved  them  with  the  greatest 
warmth  and  delicacy  of  affection.  Having  loved  his  own 
who  were  in  the  world,  he  loved  them  to  the  end ;  and  this 
love  caused  him  to  enter  intimately  into  their  future  distresses, 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR^S   AGONY.  183 

and  affectionately  to  snare  them  by  a  generous  condolence 
He  antedated  them,  he  represented  them  strongly  to  his  mind, 
and  by  a  painful  anticipation,  and  exquisite  sympathy,  now 
felt  all  the  severe  force  and  weight  of  these  evils.  What 
mental  anxiety  and  distress  he  felt  on  account  of  their  future 
miseries  and  persecutions  appears  from  that  consolatory  dis- 
course, recorded  by  St.  John,  which  was  addressed  to  these 
his  mournful  and  melancholy  friends,  who  were  in  the  last 
dejection  at  the  thought  of  his  departure  from  them.  If  the 
world  hate  you,  you  know  that  it  hated  me  before  it  hated 
you.  Remember  the  word  that  I  said  to  you.  The  servant  is 
not  greater  than  his  Lord.  If  they  have  persecuted  me,  they 
will  also  persecute  you  ;  if  they  have  insidiously  watched  my 
words,  they  will  insidiously  watch  yours  also.  Verily  I  say 
unto  you,  you  shall  weep  and  lament,  but  the  world  shall  re- 
joice. With  great  reason,  therefore,  we  may  suppose  that  all 
these  scenes  of  future  woe  now  crowded  into  our  Lord's  mind 
at  once.  Love,  pity,  sympathy,  benevolence,  were  the  great 
emotions  and  passions  which  labored  in  his  breast.  The 
opposition  his  cause  would  meet  with  in  the  world,  and  the 
dreadful  sufferings  in  which  those  would  be  involved  who 
maintained  it,  wrung  his  heart  with  the  acutest  anguish,  and 
overwhelmed  it  in  the  deepest  sorrow.  This  painful  reflec- 
tion, conspiring  with  the  other  causes  I  have  alleged,  produced 
the  deplorable  situation  here  recorded,  rendered  him  unequal 
to  the  shock,  made  the  assistance  of  an  angel  necessary  to 
support  and  strengthen  him,  and  caused  him  to  sweat,  as  it 
were,*  great  drops  of  blood  falling  to  the  ground. 

=*  Observe,  this  is  only  a  simile  or  comparison  of  the  Evangelist  to 
illustrate  the  profuseness  of  our  Saviour*s  sweat.  '  ^Eyevero  de  6  idpoas 
avTov  'i22EI  Opofi^oi  atixaros.  Luke  xxii.  44.  Just  as  all  the  four 
Evangelists,  intending  to  give  their  reader  a  just  idea  of  the  rapid  descent 
of  the  Eoly  Spirit  upon  Christ,  after  his  baptism,  compare  it  to  the 
vdocily  of  a  dove,  'i22EI  nepioTepdv,  — not  that  tlie  Holy  Spirit  assumed 
the  shape  of  a  dove,  but  descended  and  alighted  upon  our  Lord  with  the 
rapidity  with  which  a  dove  darts  from  the  sky  to  the  earth.  Probably 
there  was  now  the  same  appearance  as  at  tlie  day  of  Pentecost.     The 


184  ON   THE    CAUSES    OF   OUR   SAVIOUR's   A(}0NT. 

Section  V. 

It  appearcth  to  me,  also,  that  the  impending  calamities  and 
ruin  of  his  country,  in  consequence  of  their  enormities  and 
of  their  ingratitude  and  wickedness  in  rejecting  and  crucify- 
ing him,  may  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  principal  causes 
which  produced  this  agony.  It  is  a  very  unjust  and  ground- 
less objection  which  Lord  Shaftesbury  hath  advanced  against 
the  Christian  religion,  that  the  author  of  it  never  recom- 
mended private  friendship  and  the  love  of  our  country. 
Every  one  who  is  in  the  least  acquainted  with  the  life  of 
Christ,  cannot  but  know  that  our  Lord  was  an  example  of 
both  these.  From  his  most  intimate  friends,  the  Apostles,  he 
selected  one,  whose  amiable  temper  and  disposition  appear  to 
have  been  most  similar  to  his  own,  and  whom  he  honored 
with  a  peculiar  delicacy  and  tenderness  of  affection.  And 
how  well  he  loved  his  native  country  appears  from  the  whole 
of  his  hfe.  He  confined  his  instructions  and  labors  solely  to 
the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel,  declaring  that  to  them 
only  he  was  sent.  Never  was  there  a  philosopher  or  hero 
who  loved  his  country  with  a  more  generous  ardor  of  the 
truest  and  noblest  benevolence  than  our  blessed  Saviour,  if  a 
constant  study  and  active  disposition  to  promote  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  the  community  in  which  one  is  bom  may 
be  styled  the  love  of  one's  country.  Dear  to  us,  says  Tully, 
are  our  parents,  our  children,  our  relations,  our  friends ;  but 
our  country    compriseth  and  embraceth  everything  that    is 

word  0p6fi^oi  is  very  Iwnntiful  nnd  expressive.  It  docs  not  occur  in  tho 
New  Testnincnt  but  only  in  ihls  passage.  It  signifies  laiye  (/lofntles,  thick 
and  clmnniy  clots  of  gore  or  sweat,  pitch,  milk,  &c.  Ilesycluus  explains 
Bfjon^oi  hy  aifia  rraxv,  imrrjyos  wp  ^ovvoi.  —  IloTafios  Sfxa  tw  vdart 
6p6fi^ovs  d(r<Pu\Tov  (\vabifioi  iroWovs,  "  Mixed  with  the  water,  tho 
river  sendeth  up  many  large  clots  of  bitumen."  Herodotus,  Clio,  p.  386, 
Vol.  I.  Glnsg.  "Qar  iv  yaXatcrt  Spofi^ou  alfxaros  arrdaat.  JEscliyli 
Chocph.,  vers.  531.  Qpofxfit^  b*  efit^tv  m/Miror  <f)l\ov  ya\a.  Ibid, 
vers.  544.  At/iarof  Bpopfiovi  n^\auas,  "  Large  black  globules  of  blood." 
Hippocrates,  Lib.  III.  ^  19,  edit.  Linden. 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF   OUR    SAVIOUR'S   AGONY.  185 

dear  and  valuable  to  us.  In  conformity  to  this  maxim  our 
Saviour  really  acted.  He  broke  every  parental  and  fratcjrnal 
connection,  all  the  ties  of  consanguinity,  and  forsook  all  the 
endearments  of  private  life  to  consult  the  welfare  of  his 
country.  What  can  be  more  pathetic  and  expressive  of  the 
warmest  benevolence,  than  that  complaint  and  lamentation  he 
uttered  over  his  incorrigible  and  devoted  country,  —  "  O  that 
thou,  even  thou,  hadst  known  in  this  thy  day  the  things  that 
belong  to  thine  everlasting  peace  !  "  The  strong  perception 
he  had  of  their  imminent  calamities  forced  him  in  this  plain- 
tive and  aifectionate  manner  to  deplore  their  wretched  fate. 
One  of  the  Evangelists  informs  us,  that  when  he  drew  near 
the  city  he  wept  over  it.  Generous  minds  feel  strongly  for 
the  unhappy.  It  was  benevolence,  pity,  and  love  for  his 
unfortunate  country,  which  called  forth  his  grief,  and  caused 
him  to  shed  these  tributary  tears,  at  once  the  affecting  memo- 
rials of  his  love,  and  the  awful  tokens  of  its  approaching 
doom.  As  he  had  a  perfect  knowledge,  so  he  had  a  painful 
sympathetic  sense,  of  those  dreadful  calamities  which  would 
shortly  overwhelm  his  country,  for  their  enormities  in  dis- 
obeying and  murdering  the  Lord  of  life.  "  Daughters  of 
Jerusalem,"  said  he  to  the  women  who  were  beating  their 
breasts  and  deploring  his  unhappy  fate,  when  he  was  led  to 
Calvary,  "  weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and  for 
your  children  :  for  behold  the  days  are  coming  in  which  they 
shall  say.  Blessed  are  the  barren,  and  the  wombs  that  never 
bare,  and  the  breasts  that  never  gave  suck.  Then  shall  they 
begin  to  say  to  the  mountains.  Fall  on  us,  and  to  the  hills. 
Cover  us ;  for  if  they  do  these  things  in  a  green  tree,  what 
shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ?"  Accordingly,  in  about  fori^  years 
after  his  resurrection,  the  Romans  invaded  Judaea,  spread 
desolation  everywhere,  at  last  invested  the  capital,  enclosed 
an  infinite  number  of  people  in  it,  who  had  then  come  from 
all  parts  to  celebrate  the  Passover,  drew  lines  of  circum- 
vallation  round  them,  and  thus  devoted  them  to  all  the 
miseries  of  famine,  pestilence,  and  war.  After  incredible 
numbers  had  perished  by  mutual  assassinations  and  famine, 
16# 


186         ON   THE    CAUSES    OF   OUR   SAVIOUR's   AGONT. 

the  city  was  stormed  and  plundered,  the  temple  burnt,  the 
buildings  demolished,  the  walls  razed  from  the  foundations, 
the  greatest  part  of  the  Jews  were  put  to  the  sword,  the  rest 
sold  for  slaves  into  foreign  countries.  These  calamities,  in 
severer  than  which  never  was  any  nation  involved,  had  their 
completion  in  Adrian's  time,  who  published  an  edict  prohib- 
iting every  Jew,  on  pain  of  death,  from  setting  a  foot  in 
Judaea. 

All  these  scenes  of  national  calamity  and  ruin  our  Lord 
perfectly  knew ;  and  the  painful  apprehension  and  view  made 
him  commiserate  his  falling  country.  What  affection,  pity, 
sympathy,  and  sorrow  are  mingled  in  that  pathetic  exclama- 
tion :  "  O  Jerusalem !  Jerusalem  !  thou  that  killest  the  proph- 
ets, and  stonest  those  that  are  sent  to  thee !  How  often  would 
I  have  gathered  thy  children,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her 
chickens  under  her  wings,  but  you  would  not !  Therefore  is 
your  house  left  unto  you  desolate."  Now  if  our  Saviour's 
mind,  in  the  course  of  his  ministry,  was  so  much  affected  and 
depressed  by  the  thought  of  his  country's  disobedience,  and 
of  their  deplorable  ruin,  the  certain  effect  of  it,  how  much 
more  may  we  justly  suppose  must  he  be  dejected  and  dis- 
tressed when  he  was  nfyw  entering  upon  those  sufferings 
which  he  knew  would  assuredly  bring  on  his  devoted  country 
these  dreadful  inflictions.  If  he  indulged  and  manifested 
such  grief  for  only  one  single  person,  for  the  death  of  his 
dear  friend  Lazarus,  how  inexpressibly  must  he  suffer  for 
the  destruction  of  a  very  large  collective  body  of  men,  to 
whom  he  was  connected  by  the  common  endearing  bond  of 
natural  affection  and  country? 

In  this  maimer,  I  apprehend,  the  agony  of  our  Lord,  and 
his  prayer  to  God  that  this  cup  might  pass  from  him,  may 
be  rationally  accounted  for,  without  recurring  to  any  impious 
and  absurd  hyi>othesis  which  derogates  from  the  wisdom,  rec- 
titude, and  goodness  of  the  Deity,  and  disparages  the  inno- 
cence and  merit  of  this  illustrious  sufferer,  a-^cribing  it,  I 
mean,  to  the  dereliction  and  wrath  of  Grod,  the  temptation 
and  tyranny  of  Satan,  into  whose  power  he  was  'luring  this 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's    AGONY.  187 

Bcene  totally  delivered,  or  to  the  incumbent  weight  of  all 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  whose  ponderous  and  oppressive 
load,  during  these  moments,  he  was  permitted  of  God  to 
feel  and  support.  I  humbly  conceive  that  his  unsuccessful- 
ness  in  reclaiming  and  reforming  the  Jews  ;  the  desertion  of 
his  disciples ;  the  perception  of  the  insult  and  ill  usage  he  was 
shortly  to  sustain,  —  the  arrest  and  seizure  of  his  person,  the 
illegal  process  through  which  he  was  to  pass,  the  injurious 
and  contumelious  treatment  he  would  experience  in  the  con- 
duct of  it,  being  buffeted,  delivered  up  to  the  Romans,  vested 
with  mock  royalty,  scourged,  imprisoned,  crucified ;  the  fore- 
sight of  the  calamities  and  persecutions  of  his  followers  for 
maintaining  and  spreading  his  religion ;  and  the  imminent 
destruction  of  his  country ;  —  these  are  causes  adequate  to 
such  an  effect.  Especially  if  we  add,  that  the  great  and  un- 
remitting labor  in  which  he  had  been  employed  for  the  Jive 
days  which  preceded  his  agony  must  necessarily  have  con- 
tributed to  render  him  low  and  weak  at  this  time,  and  reduced 
him  to  a  state  of  great  debility  and  lassitude.  This  combi- 
nation of  painful  ideas  collecting,  as  in  a  focus,  their  whole 
accumulated  energy  and  force,  and  pouring  in  a  strong  vehe- 
ment stream  upon  an  exquisitely  sensible  and  tender  spirit, 
so  entirely  penetrated  and  overwhelmed  it,  as  to  render  the 
interposition  of  a  heavenly  messenger  necessary  to  strengthen 
and  support  him.  So  violent  was  the  commotion  excited  by 
these  sad  images  obtruding  all  at  once  upon  his  mind,  that 
he  complained  that  his  soul  was  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death.*     And  in  such  a  situation,  amidst  the  tumult  of 

*  The  expressions  used  by  the  sacred  writers  to  represent  the  intense- 
ness  of  his  agony  are  the  most  strong  and  emphatical  which  could 
have  been  employed.  IlfpiXvTros,  exceedingly  sorrowful,  excessively  dis- 
tressed. Uep'iXvTTos  icTTiv  t)  ■^vxT]  yiov  ecas  Bavdrov.  Matt,  xxvi,  38. 
*EKdan^€la6mi  used  by  Mark,  ch.  xiv.  33,  signifies  to  be  stunned  and 
overwhelmed  with  any  passion,  to  be  Jixed  in  astonishment  to  be  lost  in 
wonder  and  amazement.  It  is  used  to  express  the  extreme  terror  and  con- 
sternation of  the  women  at  the  une?rpected  sight  of  an  angel  in  our  Lord's 
sepulchre.     Mark  xvi.  5.  6.     And  the  great  amazement  of  the  multitude 


188         ON   THE    CAUSES    OF   OUR   SAVIOUR's   AGONY. 

BO  many  painful  reflections  crowding  in  pei-petual  succession 
upon  a  delicate  mind,  and  in  the  near  prospect  of  such  inju- 
rious treatment  and  such  an  excruciating  death,  is  not  the 
consternation  and  sensibility  our  Lord  expressed  natural,  and 
the  petition  he  preferred  to  heaven,  in  such  a  crisis,  if  it 
pleased  God  to  let  this  cup  pass  from  him,  the  very  first 
dictate  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  genuine,  constant  language 
of  a  dependent  creature  when  involved  in  distress  ? 

I  shall  conclude  this  Dissertation  with  the  reflections  of  a 
very  judicious  author.*  "  In  the  first  place,"  says  this  inge- 
nious writer,  "  this  befell  our  Lord  just  as  he  had  finished  his 
public  ministry.     Intenseness  of  thought,  in  a  long  course  of 

at  beholding  the  miracle  wrought  on  tlie  lame  man.  Acts  iii.  11. 
*Abr]fxov(lv  is  a  strong  expression,  and  signifies  to  be  in  great  dejection,  to 
Buffer  the  last  anguish  and  distress  of  mind.  KXcoTrdrpav  nepiefievf,  Koi 
Ppabvvova-r]s  abrffiovwv  tj\v€,  "  He  [Antony]  anxiously  expected  Clco- 
puti-a ;  and  upon  her  delayin<^  to  come,  he  sunk  into  the  last  dejection 
and  distress."  Plutarch  in  Vita  Antonii,  p.  939,  edit.  Francof.,  1620. 
*E(j)  w  6//  6  €T€pos  avrav  ddr]p.ovfja-as,  lavTov  ecr(/ja|f,  "  On  which  ac- 
count one  of  them  was  so  dejected,  that  he  laid  violent  hands  on  himself.'* 
Dio  Cassias,  Tom.  II.  p.  924,  edit.  Reimari,  Haml)ur<r,  1752.  Kav 
TOVTCO  Ka\  T<av  'Pco/xat<oi/  Tivts  d8qfiovr](TavT€s,  ola  ev  Xpo*"V  ToXiop/cia, 
fXfT€(TTr]<Tav,  "  In  the  mean  time  some  of  the  Komans,  Ix'ing  extremely 
dejected,  as  is  usual  in  a  tedious  siege,  revolted  to  the  enemy."  Dio  Cns- 
sius,  p.  1080,  ejusdem  editionis.  *Hbrjiiov(l  piiv  yitp  opau  to  trapako- 
yov  rqs  yvvaiKos  npos  avTov  piaos  oi/K  dnoKfKpvppevou,  "  He  suffntd 
the  last  anguish  and  distress  at  seeing  his  wife's  ahhoiTcncc  of  him,  which 
ho  did  not  expect,  or  she  study  to  dissemble."  Joseplms,  Tom.  I.  p.  760, 
edit.  Havereamp.  *H8»;/bi»i/oO»'  be,  pfj  (f)6d(ras  KaraXOcrat  ri*  nav  ilpyop 
ovK  t^apKi(Tft  npos  Tf\os  dyaydv  rfjv  irpoaip«riv,  "  But  they  were  in 
the  utmost  distress,  lest  the  kinj;,  after  demolishing  the  whole  work,  shou/d 
not  be  able  to  execute  liis  desifjn."  Joscphus,  p.  778,  Ilavcrc.  *Ad?;/io- 
povvra  8<  Tou  /SacrtXfa  eVt  rrj  drrayoptvati,  "  The  emperor  l)eing  great- 
ly distressed  at  this  repulse."  Sozonien,  Hist.  Eccles.,  Lib.  I.  p.  14,  edit. 
Cantab.  1720.  ^Airjfiovovuras  8e  rovi  tbiovs  orpaTia'Tas  its  t^TmBtv 
rar  oocT)!/,  "  Seeing  his  soldiers  greatly  dejected  on  account  of  their  being 
defeated."  Socrates,  Hist.  Eccl.,  p.  137.  Sec  also  p.  356,  edit.  Reading, 
Cantab.  1720. 
♦  Moore  on  our  Saviour's  Agony,  pp.  83  -  86. 


O'S    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's    AGONY.  189 

exercise,  is,  ordinarily,  productive  of,  or  succeeded  by,  per- 
ceptions that  are  irksome  and  tedious.  Such  sort  of  busi- 
ness naturally  ends  with  fatigue  ;  and  fatigue  discovers  itself 
through  all  the  avenues  of  the  senses,  as  well  in  the  mind  as 
in  the  body.  And  at  such  a  season,  it  is  notorious,  the  pas- 
sions of  grief  and  sorrow  lie  most  open  and  exposed  to  objects 
which  excite  pain.  Evils  that  are  at  other  times  tolerable, 
come  now  with  double  force,  and  make  deep  impression.  The 
observation  on  this  circumstance  was  the  result  of  the  first 
branch  of  our  inquiry.  It  is  repeated  here  because  it  serves 
.o  illustrate  the  reasons,  or  is  itself  one,  why  Jesus  began  to 
be  sorrowful  and  very  heavy. 

"Again.  This  happened  to  him  when  he  was  entering 
upon  a  new  scene  of  sufferings.  At  such  a  crisis  we  find 
things  future  begin  to  have  an  actual  existence,  and  are,  as  it 
were,  quickened  into  life.  The  passions,  big  with  expecta- 
tion, are  ready  to  break  forth  to  meet  their  objects.  There 
is  always  something  vivid  and  strong  in  the  perception  of 
bare  novelty  itself.  But  when  the  novelty  has  a  group  of 
painful  objects,  the  perceptions  are  more  interesting,  and 
alarm  the  whole  human  frame.  Let  us  suppose  one's  self  to 
be  about  being  reduced  from  a  state  of  affluence  to  penury  ; 
or  to  be  bereaved  of  one's  friends  ;  or  to  undergo  the  ampu- 
tation of  a  leg  or  an  arm ;  what  kind  of  perceptions  should 
we  have?  Would  they  not  create  a  horror  to  the  mind, 
agitate  the  animal  spirits,  or  strike  on  the  fine  fibres  of  the 
heart  and  brain  so  as  to  make  us  shudder?  If  this  be 
agreeable  to  common  experience  on  such  occasions,  common 
experience  is  a  clew  that  will  help  to  unravel  the  causes  of 
the  sore  amazement  of  our  Lord  at  this  juncture. 

"  Again.  He  was  now  on  the  spot  where  he  was  to  pre- 
pare himself  and  meet  his  sufierings.  There  may  be  facts 
transacted,  or  a  variety  of  events  to  which  we  are  subject, 
which  will  make  the  bare  sight  of  places  raise  a  combination 
of  ideas  and  disturb  and  perplex  the  mind.  It  is  so  natural 
to  connect  things  with  places,  that  very  often  Ave  make  the 
latter  a  sort  of  focus  where  the  moment  of  the  whole  business 


190  OS   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR   SA  VIOUR'S    AGONT. 

is  collected.  Have  we  a  cause  to  litigate,  or  are  we  called  to 
tlefend  our  country  ?  The  entrance  into  the  court  of  judi- 
cature, or  first  view  of  the  field  of  battle,  shall  give  a  more 
warm  and  sensible  turn  to  the  affections  and  passions,  than  per- 
haps we  shall  feel  through  the  whole  trial,  or  meet  with  in  the 
actual  engagement.  And  if  this  was  not  exactly  the  case  of 
our  Lord,  yet  as  he  came  hither  on  purpose  to  prepare  and 
meet  his  sufferings,  those  sufferings  must  necessarily  be  rep- 
resented and  brought  to  the  full  view  of  his  imagination. 
In  order  to  suit  ourselves  to  a  condition,  that  condition  must 
be  surveyed  and  entered  into  by  the  mind.  Wherefore  we 
may  suppose,  that  the  first  perception  our  Lord  had,  when 
he  was  at  the  place,  was  the  kind  and  importance  of  the 
evils  to  which  he  was  now  to  submit.  This  supposition  is 
both  pious  and  natural.  Then  we  address  the  Supreme 
Being  with  propriety,  when  we  have  viewed  the  exigency 
of  our  affairs.  We  seldom  need  to  court  objects  of  pain. 
They  are  known  to  intrude  themselves  too  often  with  a  sort  of 
eagerness.  But  in  the  present  circumstance  they  are  called 
for,  and  the  attention  of  the  mind  to  them  is,  as  it  were, 
demanded.  Wherefore  our  Lord  could  not  but  be  conscious 
of  the  perception  he  had  of  the  evils  before  him.  And  that 
consciousness  must  increase  in  proportion  to  the  number  and 
weight  they  bore.  It  is  agreeable  to  the  natural  order  of 
things  that  it  should  be  so.  So  that  it  is  no  wonder  if  a  round 
of  misery  wjis  the  only  perception  he  was  for  a  time  con- 
scious of.  Now  here  was  he  to  be  betrayed  by  one  of  his 
own  disciples,  seized  and  bound  like  a  thief,  abandoned  by 
his  friends,  led  away  and  treated  with  cruel  and  indignant 
usage.  And  the  consequences  hereof,  replete  with  evils, 
found  easy  access,  we  may  suppose,  to  a  mind  like  his.  The 
language  of  the  best  human  heart  on  such  an  occasion  would 
be,  O  what  will  become  of  my  country,  and  of  the  men  I 
love !  Wliat  an  agitation  would  a  man  feel  in  his  animal 
Bpirits,  and  how  acute  and  powerful  the  operation  between 
his  passions  and  their  objects  in  such  a  state  and  crisis  as 
this  I    It  is  evident  tlie  perception  of  misery,  now,  is  right, 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAYIOUR*S   AGONY.  191 

and  as  it  should  be  ;  and  the  commotion  that  ensues  is  natural, 
and  what  will  be.  With  respect  to  the  latter,  reason  is  too 
sublime,  or  comes  too  slow  to  have  anything  presently  to  do 
in  the  case.  The  violence  of  the  commotion  must  cease 
before  the  understanding  can  attend  to  the  dictates  of  reason. 
After  this  manner,  probably,  was  Jesus  exercised  at  this 
juncture." 

*  "  When  Christ  is  compared  to  men  who  are  said  to  have 
slept  sound  before  a  painful  death,  and  to  have  discovered 
no  sensibility  iu  any  period  of  it,  the  nature  and  use  of  his 
example  is  not  considered  ;  his  natural  weakness,  if  it  may  be 
80  called,  being  better  calculated  to  show  the  strength  of  his 
faith,  and  therefore  affording  more  encouragement  to  us  to 
follow  his  steps. 

"  But  certainly  our  encouragement  to  follow  Christ  in  suf 
fering  and  dying  is  greatly  lessened  by  the  notion  of  hi» 
having  had  a  power  over  his  own  sensations,  so  tha*;  in  an^ 
situation  he  could  feel  more  or  less  at  pleasure,  and  even  pu' 
an  end  to  all  sensation  by  a  premature  death,  which  is  stiicdy 
prohibited  to  all  his  followers,  and  justly  esteemed  unbeeom- 
ing  the  firmness  that  is  expected  of  other  men.  Onnstiana 
who  entertain  this  idea  of  their  Saviour  cannot  nave  reflected 
on  the  nature  of  the  case. 

"  It  may  be  said  that,  if  Christ  only  felt  as  a  ynan  during 
his  agony,  we  should  find  something  similar  to  it  in  the  ac- 
counts of  some  of  the  martyrs.  But  the  probability  is,  thai 
no  history  of  any  martyr  was  ever  written  with  such  perfect 
fidelity  as  that  of  Christ  by  the  Evangelists.  It  has  been  too 
much  the  object  of  the  writers,  and  from  the  best  views, 
namely,  the  encouragement  of  others,  to  exhibit  the  fortitude 
and  heroism  of  the  sufferers  in  the  strongest  light. 

"  It  must  also  be  considered,  that  what  a  person  suffers  in 
his  own  mind,  in  the  expectation  of  pain  and  death,  is  gen- 


♦  From    the    Theological  Repository,   Vol.   VI.   pp.   314-319.— 
G.  R.  N. 


192  ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's    AGONT. 

erally  known  only  to  himself;  and  that  the  afTections  of  the 
bodily  frame  are  seldom  so  great,  when  he  is  in  company,  as 
to  be  visible  to  others.  What  our  Saviour  himself  felt  would 
not  have  been  known,  if  he  had  not,  for  the  best  reasons, 
chosen  that  some  of  his  disciples  should  be  witnesses  of  it. 
For  anything  that  appears,  his  agony  might  not  last  half  an 
hour,  and  presently  after  it  he  was  perfectly  composed ;  and 
his  behavior  the  day  following  was  such  as  could  have  given 
no  person  the  least  suspicion  of  what  he  had  felt  the  pre- 
ceding night. 

"  But  though  notliing  is  related  of  any  particular  martyr 
that  approaches  to  the  case  of  our  Saviour,  yet,  besides  what 
we  may  judge  from  our  own  experience  in  the  expectation 
of  less  evils,  of  what  must  have  sometimes  been  felt  in  the 
expectation  of  greater  ones,  some  circumstances  are  occa- 
sionally mentioned  by  martyrologists,  which  sufficiently  illus- 
trate the  account  of  the  Evangelists.  There  are  numberless 
cases  in  which  martyrs  are  represented  as  peculiarly  intrepid 
during  their  trial,  and  also  immediately  before,  and  even 
during  the  time  of  extreme  torture,  compared  with  what 
they  had  felt  on  the  more  distant  view  of  it,  though  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  were  affected  by  that  more  distant  view 
is  not  distinctly  noted. 

"  Many  letters  are  preserved  of  martyrs,  written  in  the 
interval  between  their  apprehension  and  their  deaths.  But, 
besides  that  historians  would  seldom  choose  to  j)ublish  any 
letters  except  such  as,  in  their  opinion,  would  do  them  credit, 
and  serve  the  cause  for  which  they  suffered,  that  is,  show 
their  fortitude,  a  man  who  is  capable  of  writing  must  be 
tolerably  composed,  and  would  not  in  general  be  himself  in- 
clined to  dwell  upon  circumstances  which  would  give  himself 
and  his  friends  pain. 

"  From  the  account  of  one  of  the  English  martyrs,  how- 
ever, namely,  Richard  Woodman,  it  may  easily  be  collected, 
that  his  sufferings  during  his  conflict  with  himself,  when,  as 
he  says  (Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs,  Vol.  III.  p.  673),  while  he 
was  *  loth  to  ifoi-cgo  his  wife  and  children  and  goods,*  were 


ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR's   AGONY.  193 

extreme.  *  This  battle/  he  says,  *  lasted  not  a  quarter  of  an 
hour ;  but  it  was  sharper  than  death  itself  for  the  time,  I 
dare  say.'  After  this  he  appears  to  have  been  perfectly 
calm,  and  he  suffered  with  great  fortitude. 

"  Having  now,  I  presume,  some  idea  of  the  extreme  dis- 
tress and  agony  of  mind  under  which  our  Lord  labored, 
greater  perhaps  than  any  other  man  had  ever  felt  before 
him,  and  also  of  the  causes  which  produced  it,  let  us  consider 
his  strength  of  mind  in  supporting  the  prospect  of  them. 
That  he  should  wish  to  avoid  going  through  the  dreadful 
scene,  we  cannot  think  extraordinary.  He  would  not  have 
been  a  man  if  he  had  not,  and  that  this  wish  should  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  form  of  a  prayer  to  that  great  Being  at  whose 
sovereign  disposal  he  and  all  mankind  always  are,  was  quite 
natural.  In  a  truly  devout  mind,  which  respects  the  hana  of 
God  in  everything,  an  earnest  wish  and  a  prayer  are  the 
same  thing.  Our  Saviour,  in  this  agony,  did  pray  that,  if  it 
was  possible,  the  hitter  cup  might  pass  from  him.  But  by 
possible  must,  no  doubt,  be  meant  consistently  with  the  designs 
of  divine  government.  He  therefore  only  expressed  his  desire 
that  his  painful  death  and  sufferings  might  be  dispensed  with, 
if  the  same  great  and  good  ends  could  have  been  attained 
without  them.  For  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  with  God 
all  things  are  naturally  possible.  Our  Lord's  wish  or  prayer 
was  therefore  only  conditional,  and  not  absolute.  He  did  not 
wish  to  be  excused  from  suffering,  whatever  might  be  the 
consequence.  Even  in  this  most  painful  state  of  apprehen- 
sion, he  did  not  look  to  himself  only,  but  to  God,  and  the 
great  ends  of  his  government. 

"  We  may  think  it  extraordinary  that  our  Lord  should  for 
a  moment  suppose  that  what  he  wished  or  prayed  for  was,  in 
any  sense  of  the  word,  possible,  knowing,  as  he  himself  ob- 
serves, that  for  that  end  he  came  unto  that  hour  ;  his  dying, 
with  a  view  to  a  future  resurrection,  being  a  necessary  part 
of  that  plan  which  he  was  to  be  the  principal  instrument  in 
executing.  But,  besides  that,  in  a  highly  agitated  state  of 
mind,  the  tiling  might  for  a  moment  appear  in  a  different 
17 


194  ON    THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR    SAVIOUR'S    AGOXT. 

light,  our  Lord  well  knew  that  the  appointments  of  God, 
even  when  expressed  in  the  most  absolute  terms,  are  not 
always  so  intended.  We  have  more  instances  than  one  of 
similar  orders  and  appointments,  by  which  nothing  was 
meant  but  the  trial  of  a  pei'son's  faith. 

"  This  was  the  case  when  Abraham  was  ordered  to  offer 
up  his  beloved  son  Isaac.  Till  the  moment  that  his  hand 
was  actually  raised  to  slay  his  son,  that  patriarch  had  no 
reason  whatever  to  think  that  the  death  of  his  son,  and  that 
by  his  own  hand,  was  not  intended  by  the  Divine  Being. 
The  order  for  the  destruction  of  Nineveh  in  forty  days  was 
also  delivered  in  absolute  terms,  though  it  was  intended  to  be 
conditional,  and  in  the  event  did  not  take  place.  Notwith- 
standing, therefore,  all  that  had  passed  in  the  communica- 
tions which  Jesus  had  with  God,  he  could  not  tell  but  that 
possibly  his  death  might  not  be  necessary,  and  that  the  same 
end  might  be  gained  without  it.  In  these  circumstances,  con- 
sidering the  natural  love  of  life,  and  the  dread  of  pain  and 
death,  the  merest  possibihty,  or  the  supposition  of  a  possi 
bility,  would  certainly  justify  our  Lord's  prayer,  especially 
when  it  is  considered  that,  in  the  same  breath  with  which  he 
uttered  it,  he  added.  Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou 
wilt.  Notwithstanding  the  dread  and  horror  of  mind  with 
which  he  viewed  his  approaching  sufferings,  he  had  no  objec- 
tion to  them,  if  it  was  the  determined  will  of  God  that  he 
should  bear  them.  This  was  a  degree  of  resignation  and 
fortitude  which  far  exceeds  anything  that  we  read  of  in 
history.  In  all  other  instances  in  which  persons  have  sweated 
through  the  fear  of  death,  they  would  have  given,  or  have 
done,  anything  to  have  avoided  it.  To  them  it  appeared  the 
greatest  of  all  evils. 

"  The  courage  which  any  man  may  show  while  his  nerves 
are  firm,  is  not  to  be  compared  with  that  of  our  Saviour's, 
when  his  were,  in  a  manner,  broken  and  subdued.  It  was 
not  only  while  he  was  calm,  and  had  a  perfect  command  of 
himself,  but  when  his  perturbation  and  distress  of  mind  was 
so  great  as  to  throw  him  into  a  profuse  sweat,  that  he  said, 


ON   THE    CAUSES    OF    OUR   SAVIOUR'S   AGONY.         195 

Not  as  I  willy  hut  as  thou' wilt.  No  man  in  any  cool  moment 
can  form  to  himself  an  adequate  idea  of  the  heroism  of  this 
act.  Because  no  man,  in  a  cool  moment,  and  under  no  terror 
of  mind  himself,  can  tell  what  his  own  wishes  and  prayers 
would  be  in  a  state  of  such  dreadful  agony  as  that  of  our 
Saviour.  It  will  therefore  be  greater  than  he  can  conceive 
it  to  be.  It  is  probable  that  nothing  but  the  consciousness  of 
his  peculiarly  near  relation  to  God,  and  his  full  assurance  of 
such  a  state  of  future  glory  as  no  other  man  would  ever 
arrive  at,  could  have  supported  him,  and  have  preserved  his 
resignation  and  fortitude,  in  a  state  of  mind  so  peculiarly 
unfavorable  to  them.** 


OF  OUR  LORD'S  FORTITUDE. 

By  WILLIAM  NEWCOME, 

AECHBISHOP  OF  ARMAGH,  AND  PRIMATE  OF  XBELAND.* 


Our  Lord  exhorted  his  apostles  not  to  fear  their  perse- 
cutors, who  killed  the  body  and  could  not  kill  the  soul ;  but 
rather  to  fear  Him  who  was  able  to  destroy  both  body  and  soul 
in  hell.f  This  was  an  exhortation  to  fortitude  in  professing 
and  propagating  the  true  religion.  His  example  taught  this 
duty  in  its  whole  extent. 

He  shovred  a  noble  contempt  of  worldly  greatness  by  ap- 
pearing in  a  low  condition  of  life.  During  his  public  minis- 
try he  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  J  some  of  his  pious 
attendants  ministered  to  him  of  their  substance,  §  and  he 
paid  the  tribute-money  by  miracle.  ||  He  suffered  hunger, 
thirst,  and  weariness ;  he  was  ever  contending  with  the  dul- 
ness  of  his  disciples,  the  incredulity  of  his  kinsfolk,  and  the 
reproaches  and  injuries  of  the  Jews.  And  he  "  pleased  not 
himself"^;  but  submitted  to  many  and  great  evils,  that  he 
might  please  God  and  benefit  mankind. 

Let  us  observe  in  particular  instances  what  "  contradiction 
of  sinners "  **  he  endured,  and  what  greatness  of  mind  he 
displayed. 

*  From  his  "  Observations  on  our  Lord's  Conduct  as  a  Divine  In- 
structor," &c. 

t  Matt.  X.  26,  28.  J  Matt.  viii.  20.  4  Luke  viii.  3. 

IJ  Matt.  xvii.  27.  1  Rom.  xv.  3.  **  Heb,  xii.  3. 

17* 


198        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

"When  he  had  pronounced  forgiveness  of  sins  to  a  paralytic, 
some  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  charged  him  with  blas- 
phemy for  invading  God's  prerogative.  But  they  made  the 
accusation  in  the  reasonings  of  their  hearts ;  and  did  not 
avow  it  openly.  Notwithstanding  this,  Jesus,  unawed  by 
their  authority,  firmly  but  calmly  expostulated  with  them  foi- 
their  evil  thought ;  *  and  argued  that  the  discernment  of  a 
man's  moral  state  might  justly  be  allowed  to  him  whom  God 
had  vested  with  the  power  of  working  miracles. 

Having  healed  a  man  on  the  Sabbath,  who  had  labored 
under  an  infirmity  for  thirty  and  eight  years,  the  Jews  per- 
secuted him  and  sought  to  kill  him.  Jesus  answered,  "  My 
Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work  " :  t  My  Father  pre- 
serves, governs,  and  benefits  the  world  without  distinction  of 
days ;  and  therefore  I  also  extend  good  to  men  on  the  Sab- 
bath. This  mode  of  expressing  himself  furnished  the  Jews 
with  an  additional  reason  for  seeking  his  life.  Observe  now, 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  discourse  immediately  following, 
with  what  magnanimity  our  Lord  perseveres  in  the  same 
language.  "  The  Son  can  do  nothing  of  himself,  but  what  he 
seeth  the  Father  do."  J  "  The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and 
showeth  him  all  things  which  he  himself  doeth.*'§  "The 
Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  unto 
the  Son :  that  all  men  should  honor  the  Sod,  even  as  they 
honor  the  Father  "I 

Probably  on  the  Sabbath  after  he  had  restored  the  lame 
man  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  our  Lord  intrepidly  vindicated 
his  disciples  against  the  Pharisees,  who  had  censured  them 
for  plucking  and  eating  ears  of  com  on  that  day.  ^  And, 
thinking  it  expedient  to  wean  the  Jews  from  their  excessive 
veneration  for  the  law  which  he  wjis  about  to  abolish,  on  the 
Sabbath  which  next  succeeded,  though  the  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees watched  him,  he  healed  a  man  with  a  withered  hand 


♦  Mark  ii.  6-  11.  t  John  t.  17.  %  Vor.  19.  S  Vcr.  20. 

B  Ver.  22,  23.     So  vcr.  21,  26,  30,  36,  37,  43,  45. 
^  Luko  vi.  1-4. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.        199 

publicly  in  the  synagogue.*  This  filled  them  with  madness ; 
and  they  took  counsel  how  they  might  destroy  him. 

Afterwards,  as  he  was  teaching  in  one  of  the  synagogues 
on  the  Sabbath,  he  restored  a  woman  who  had  been  bowed 
together  eighteen  years,  confuted  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue 
who  with  indignation  restrained  the  people  from  coming  to 
be  healed  on  the  Sabbath,  reproved  his  hypocrisy,  as  he 
•concealed  many  vices  under  this  semblance  of  piety,  and 
made  all  his  adversaries  ashamed,  f 

Again  :  as  he  was  eating  bread  with  a  ruler  of  the  Phari- 
sees on  the  Sabbath,  and  those  of  that  powerful  sect  insidi- 
ously observed  his  conduct,  a  man  with  a  dropsy  stood  before 
them.  Jesus  said  to  the  teachers  of  the  Law  and  the  Phari- 
sees, Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the  Sabbath  day  ?  Knowing  how 
invincibly  he  reasoned  on  this  point,  they  kept  silence.  But 
Jesus  "  took  him,  and  healed  him,  and  sent  him  away."  % 
Conscious  of  his  rectitude,  he  was  fearless  of  their  power. 

Once  more :  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  though  it  was 
the  Sabbath,  Jesus  made  clay  and  opened  the  eyes  of  one 
blind  from  his  birth :  §  and  he  wrought  this  miracle  imme- 
diately after  the  Jews  had  taken  up  stones  to  cast  at  him, 
and  had  sent  officers  to  apprehend  him.  || 

I  do  not  find  in  the  history  of  the  Apostles  that  they  had 
the  disengagement  from  prejudice,  and  the  courage,  to  imi- 
tate this  part  of  our  Lord's  conduct. 

There  are  other  instances  which  show  that  Jesus  paid  no 
deference  to  the  wrong  notions  of  the  leading  Jews.  The 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  murmured  because  he  ate  with  pub- 
licans and  sinners  in  the  house  of  Matthew  the  publican.  ^ 
This  censure  did  not  deter  him  from  saying  to  Zaccheus,  a 
chief  of  the  publicans,  at  a  time  when  multitudes  surrounded 
him,  This  day  I  must  abide  in  thine  house.** 

When  the   Scribes  and  Pharisees  from  Jerusalem  asked 


♦  Luke  vi.  6  -  11.  t  Luke  xiii.  10  -  17.  J  Luke  xiv.  1-6- 

§  John  ix.  14.  |I  See  ch.  vii.,  viii.,  ix.        ^  Luke  v.  30. 

**  Lukexix-2-7. 


iOO  OP  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

him  why  "  his  disciples  walked  not  according  to  the  tradition 
of  the  elders,  but  ate  bread  with  unwashen  hands " ;  he 
expostulated  with  them  for  their  hypocrisy,  proved  to  them 
that  they  made  void  the  commandment  of  God  by  their  tra- 
dition, characterized  them  as  blind  leaders  of  the  blind,  and 
thus  introduced  his  explanation  of  moral  defilement:  "He 
called  unto  him  all  the  multitude,  and  said  unto  them, 
Hearken  unto  me,  all  of  you,  and  understand."  * 

Another  proof  of  our  Lord's  fortitude  was,  that,  although 
his  ftict  preaching  at  Nazareth  had  exposed  his  life  to 
danger,t  the  unbelief,  the  ingratitude,  the  outrage  and  vio- 
lence of  his  countrymen,  could  not  divert  him  from  attempt- 
ing their  conversion  a  second  time. } 

We  have  seen  how  undauntingly  he  reproved  his  enemies 
on  just  occasions ;  and  these  were  often  the  Jewish  rulers 
who  had  his  life  in  their  power. 

He  met  death  for  the  wisest  and  best  ends,  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  salvation  of  mankind.  He  astonished  his  timid 
disciples  by  the  readiness  with  which  he  went  before  them 
in  the  way  to  Jerusalem,  on  the  approach  of  the  Passover  at 
which  he  suffered  ;§  when  they  all  knew  that  his  enemies 
were  conspiring  against  his  life,  and  he  himself  knew  that 
he  should  suffer  a  most  painful  and  ignominious  death :  he 
entered  the  city  in  a  kind  of  public  triumph :  in  the  liearing 
of  the  multitude  he  reproved  the  vices  of  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  to  their  face,  ||  with  unequalled  energy,  and  with 
words  "  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  a  two-edged 
sword " :  %  when  Judas  rose  from  the  paschal  supper  to 
betray  him,  he  said  to  his  disciples,  with  wonderful  com- 
posure, "  Now  is  the  Son  of  Man  glorified,  and  God  is  glo- 
rified through  him " :  **  he  witnessed  before  the  high-priest, 
and  before  Pontius  Pilate,  a  good  confession  ;  and  showed 
that  he  voluntarily  submitted  to  death,  because  he  had  i>irao- 


♦  Mark  vii.  1-15.  f  Luke  iv.  29.  t  Mark  vi.  1  -  6. 

S  Mark  x.  32  ;  Luko  xix.  28.  ||  Mntt.  xxiii.  1. 

t  Ucb.  iv.  12.  •*  John  xiiL  31. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.        201 

ulously  preserved  his  life  at  the  preceding  feasts  of  Taberna- 
cles and  Dedication.* 

It  is  natural  to  object,  that  our  Lord's  agony  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  fortitude  which  some  good  men  have  actually 
displayed.  I  shall  give  this  objection  its  full  force ;  f  and 
shall  consider  it  with  the  attention  which  it  demands. 

We  read  that  our  Lord  often  foretold  his  sufferings,  and 
many  particulars  of  them ;  that  he  most  sharply  rebuked 
Peter  for  wishing  them  far  from  him  ;  J  and  that  when  Moses 
and  Elias  appeared  to  him  at  his  transfiguration,  they  spake 
of  his  departure  which  he  was  about  to  accomplish  at  Jeru- 
salem. §  He  likewise  knew  that,  according  to  the  ancient 
prophecies,  the  Messiah  ought  to  suffer  what  the  Jews  in- 
flicted, |I  and  to  enter  into  his  glory  :^  and  accordingly  he 
predicted  his  resurrection  on  the  third  day,**  his  ascension 
into  heaven,tt  and  his  elevation  to  his  glorious  throne.  J|  It 
must  be  added,  that  his  pre-existing  and  divine  state  gave 
him  a  large  and  perfect  view  of  this  and  every  other  plan 
of  God's  moral  government. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  must  consider  that  our  Lord  was 
perfect  man,  and  left  men  an  example  that  they  should  follow 
his  steps.  §§  He  partook  of  flesh  and  blood,  ||||  like  the  chil- 
dren given  him  by  the  common  Father  of  all.  "  In  all  things 
it  behooved  him  to  be  made  like  unto  his  brethren ;  that  he 
might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high-priest."  He  said  to  his 
apostles,  "  Ye  are  they  who  have  continued  with  me  in  my 
temptations."  %%     "  He  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we 


*  John  viii.  59  ;  x.  39. 

t  Celsus  thus  states  it,  Orig.  1.  2,  §  24.  Tt  ovv  norviaTai  Koi  obvpe- 
rai,  Koi  Tov  tov  oXedpov  <^6^ov  ev^erai  Trapabpafielv,  Xiycov  a)Se  ttcos  ' 
*G  TTaVep,  K.  T.  X. 

t  Matt.  xvi.  22,  23.  §  Luke  ix.  31. 

II  Mark  ix.  12  ;  John  iii.  14  ;  Luke  xviii.  31  ;  xxii.  37  ;  John  xiii.  1,  3  ; 
xix.  28. 

^  John  xvii.  24  ;  Matt  xix.  28  ;  xxv.  31. 

**  Matt.  XX.  19.        tt  John  vi.  62.  tt  See  the  texts  quoted  at  f. 

4§  1  Pet.  ii.  21.  nil  Heb.  ii.  13,  -14,  17.  11F  Luke  xxii.  28. 


202        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

are,  yet  without  sin  "  ;  *  that  he  might  be  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities.  He  himself  was  "  compassed  with 
infinnity";t  that  he  might  pardon  the  ignorant  and  erro- 
neous, and  be  moderately  and  not  rigorously  affected  towards 
them. 

We  must  also  carefully  remark  of  him,  that  he  possessed 
the  most  exquisite  feelings  of  human  nature  in  the  highest 
degree. }  He  was  susceptible  of  joy,  which  instantly  burst 
forth  in  devout  thanksgiving.  §  He  was  prone  to  compassion, 
and  repeatedly  melted  into  tears.  The  innocence  of  children 
engaged  his  affection  ;  his  heart  was  open  to  the  impressions  of 
friendship ;  and  when  he  saw  any  degree  of  virtue,  he  loved 
it.  II  He  was  grieved  at  unbelief,  and  had  a  generous  indig- 
nation against  vice :  and  we  find  him  touched  with  the  quick- 
est sense  of  his  own  wrongs :  "  Are  ye  come  out  as  against 
a  thief,  with  swords  and  staves,  to  take  me  ?  "  ^ 

Sometimes  he  spake  of  his  sufferings  with  the  greatest 
sensibility.  "  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with :  and 
how  am  I  straitened  till  it  be  accomplished  ! "  **  "  Now  is 
my  soul  troubled :  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me 
from  this  hour !     But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour."  ft 

It  is  true  that  he  frequently  foretold  his  death  with  much 
composure;  and  that  he  sternly  reprehended  Peter,  when, 
from  worldly  views,  that  apostle  began  to  rebuke  him  for 
uttering  one  of  these  predictions.  H 

The  horror  of  the  sharpest  sufferings  which  can  be  under- 
gone will  sometimes  be  greater,  and  sometimes  less,  in  the 
firmest  and  best  minds  ;  §§  as  the  evil  is  considered  in  its  own 
nature,  or  under  the  idea  of  duty  and  resignation  to  God. 
The  contest  between  reason  and  religion,  and  the  natural 
dread  of  the  greatest  evils,  must  subsist  when  the  most  per- 

♦  Hob.  iv.  15.  t  Hcb.  v.  2. 

t  Sec  Barrow,  Vol.  I.  Serm.  XXXII.  p.  475,  ed.  fol.  1683. 
4  M.'itt.  xi.  25.    Luke  X.  21.  ||  Murk  x.  21.        t  Matt  xxvi.  55. 

♦♦  Luke  xli.  50.  tt  John  xii  27.       fj  Mark  viii.  32. 

4f  IgnominiiD  cruciatuum  ct  mortis  horrorcm  in  Christi  canie  modo 
majorcm  modo  minorcm  fuisso  apparct.    Grot,  in  Matt  xvi.  23. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.        203 

feet  virtue  is  called  on  to  suffer  them .  and  where  it  ends  in 
a  becoming  resolution,  and  a  pious  submission  to  the  wise  and 
great  Disposer  of  all  events,  the  character  is  a  consummate 
one  in  a  moral  and  religious  view.* 

Let  us  now  turn  our  eyes  to  our  Lord's  conduct  on  the 
night  before  his  crucifixion.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  sedate- 
ness,  the  wisdom,  and  benevolence,  which  appear  throughout 
the  whole  of  it  at  the  celebration  of  the  paschal  supper.  He 
first  gently  censured  the  contention  for  superiority  which  had 
arisen  among  the  Apostles.f  He  then  illustrated  his  doctrine 
of  humility  by  an  example  of  it,  in  washing  their  feet.  He 
proceeded  to  declare  with  much  emotion  his  knowledge  of 
Judas's  ungrateful  and  perfidious  intention ;  |  he  mentioned 
the  aggravations  and  the  dreadful  consequences  of  his  guilt ; 
but  described  the  traitor  covertly,  and  addressed  him  ob- 
scurely, till  compelled  by  Judas's  own  question  to  point  him 
out  publicly.  He  exhorted  his  disciples  to  mutual  love  with 
a  paternal  affection.  §  Li  consequence  of  Peter's  declared 
self-confidence,  he  foretold  his  fall;  but  when  Peter  vehe- 
mently repeated  his  asseveration,  our  Lord  did  not  repeat 
his  prediction.  ||  He  instituted  a  most  simple,  expressive, 
and  useful  rite  in  commemoration  of  his  death;  instructed, 
advised,  and  comforted  his  disciples  with  the  most  unbounded 
affection ;  and  closed  with  a  solemn  act  of  piety  as  striking  a 
scene  as  imagination  can  conceive  of  lowliness  and  benignity, 
of  prudence  and  wisdom,  of  decorum  and  majesty,  of  com- 
posure and  rv^signation.^ 

He  then  resorted  to  his  accustomed  place  of  retirement, 

*  Aristotle  thus  describes  the  man  of  fortitude  :  Set  (fyo^f^adai  /xeV, 
vnoixevcLu  8e,  "  Evils  must  be  feared  by  him,  and  yet  undergone."  Magna 
Mor.,  p,  '.60,  ed.  Du  Val.  So  Eth.  Nicom.,  III.  vii.  1  :  <\>o^r](jfTaL  fxev 
ovv  KOL  rd  Toiavra  '  «$•  8e  SfT,  kol  as  Xoyo?,  v7r.o/xf  I'el,  toO  koKov  eveKa, 
**  The  man  of  fortitude  will  fear  human  evils  ;  but  will  undergo  them  as  he 
ought,  and  as  reason  prescribes,  for  the  sake  of  what  is  becoming  and 
right." 

t  Luke  xxii.  25,  &c.  J  John  xiii.  21.  §  John  xiii.  34. 

II  Matt.  xxvi.  35.  T  John  xvii. 


204  OF    OUR   LORi)'s   FORTITUDE. 

and  where  he  knew  that  Judas  would  execute  his  treason :  for 
he  knew  all  things  which  should  befall  him.* 

I  shall  now  inquire  what  were  the  causes  of  that  agony  f 
and  deadly  sorrow,  X  of  that  sore  amazement  and  heavy  an- 
guish, §  which  seized  him  on  the  approach  of  his  sufferings ; 
and  which  drew  from  him  such  intense  and  persevering  sup- 
plications that  God  would  avert  them. 

-  I  cannot  suppose  that  he  was  penetrated  with  a  sense  of 
God's  indignation  at  this  time.     That  is  the  portion  of  those 

*  John  xviii.  4. 

t  The  word  dywi/ta,  Luke  xxii.  44,  has  not  so  strong  a  sense  as  the 
corresponding  one  in  our  language.  It  properly  signifies  the  fear  which 
men  have  when  they  are  about  to  contend  with  an  antagonist ;  and  in  tliis 
sense  is  opposed  to  great  fear.  When  Hector  was  on  the  point  of  engag- 
ing with  Ajax,  the  Trojans  feared  greatly ;  but  Hector  only  r)y<ovia. 
See  Dionysius  Hal  in  Clarke's  note  on  II  VII.  216.  Aristotle  describes 
it  to  be  fear  at  the  beginning  of  an  undertaking  :  cl>6^os  tis  irpos  ap)(T]v 
Zfyyov.  Probl.  II.  31,  p.  691,  ed.  Du  Val.  The  Stoics  defined  it  to  be 
the  fear  of  an  uncertain  event :  <f)d^os  ddfjXov  npdyfxaToS'  Diog.  Laert 
Zeno,  VII.  Sect.  113,  p.  435,  ed.  Amst.  4to.  It  is  twice  used  by  Diodonu 
Siculus  for  the  anxiety  of  tlie  Egyptians  while  the  Nile  was  rising,  cd. 
Wess.,  p.  44.  And  an  apposite  passage  is  quoted  by  Lardner  on  the 
Logos,  p.  7,  from  Nic.  Damiiscen.  apud  Vales,  cxccipt.  p.  841,  where  all 
are  said  to  be  dycovioai^ey,  and  Julius  Cajsar  to  bo  fitarbs  dy<i>vlas,  while 
Octavius's  life  was  in  danger  from  illness.  "  Per  catachresin  ponitur  pro 
quovis  timore,"  says  H.  Stephens  in  voc.  and  accordingly  in  Syr.  dya>via 
is  rendered  by  fear,  from  Sm,  timuit.     Sec  Wctstcin  in  loc. 

I  H.  Stephens  translates  the  word  €K0an^to(iat,  "  Stupore  attonito  per- 
ccUor,  Pavore  attonito  perterreor."  He  derives  it  from  S^ira>,  stupeo.  It 
denotes  wonder;  sec  Mark  x.  32;  Luke  iv.  36  ;  v,  9;  Acts  iii.  10,  11  ; 
ix.  6.  It  also  denotes  that  fear  which  often  accompanies  wonder.  Com- 
pare Mark  xvi.  5,  6,  with  Luke  xxiv.  5,  Matt,  x xviii.  5.  The  word 
6dfJi^r)(r(u,  II.  I.  199,  is  explained  by  Didymus,  f<f>o^f)$T),  e^fTrXcfyi;. 
See  Pearson  on  the  Creed,  Article  Sujfered. 

^  'Afi^/iwi',  whence  dtr]fiou€o»,  is  derived  from  d8/o)  tasdio  afficior,  pro- 
prie  pne  dcfatigatione.  "Abos  signifies  satieta-s ;  dcfatigatio,  quas  est 
laboris  velut  satictas.  And  Eustatliius  defines  ddi^fKuv,  "  one  wlio  fails," 
(animo  concidit,)  as  it  were  from  a  satiety  of  sorrow.  *0  «V  Xwriyc,  o>3 
ola  Kol  nvoi  Kcfpov,  {hs  ados  X/ycrat,)  di/a7rffrro)Ka>r.  See  H.  Stephens  : 
Reimar's  Dion  Cassius,  p.  924,  note,  §  215.    Wetstein  in  loc.  Phil.  ii.  26. 


OF    OUR   LORD'S    FORTITUDE.  205 

only  who  do  evil.  A  voice  from  heaven  repeatedly  pro- 
nounced our  Lord  the  beloved  Son  of  God,  in  whom  he  was 
well  pleased.  And  he  was  now  about  to  evidence  his  obedi- 
ence and  love  to  his  Father  in  a  most  illustrious  manner.* 
He  was  also  about  to  sanctify  himself!  for  the  sake  of  his 
disciples,  and  of  all  mankind.  And  what  are  his  own  words  ? 
"  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love  me,  because  I  lay  down  my 
hfe  that  I  may  take  it  again."  % 

Nor  was  Christ  at  this  time  under  the  immediate  power  of 
Satan.  In  the  concluding  scenes  of  his  life,  the  evil  one 
might  be  said  to  "  bruise  his  heel,"  §  because  he  afflicted  him 
by  his  instruments.  After  the  temptation,  the  Devil  is  said  to 
depart  from  him  "  for  a  season."  ||  If  the  phrase  impHes  that 
he  returned  during  our  Lord's  agony  and  sufferings,  what  his 
emissaries  and  imitators  did  may  be  attributed  to  his  agency. 
When  our  Lord  said  to  his  apostles,  at  the  paschal  supper, 
"  the  prince  of  this  world  cometh  "  ;  IT  the  meaning  is,  that  he 
was  coming  by  those  unjust  and  violent  men  who  resembled 
him.  And  again,  when  Jesus  said  to  the  Jewish  rulers,  "  this 
is  your  hour,  and  the  power  of  darkness  "  ;  **  he  meant  the 
power  of  wickedness,  of  men  who  hated  the  light,  and  came 
not  to  it  lest  their  deeds  should  be  reproved.  But  that  the 
mind  of  Christ  was  now  disquieted  and  harassed  by  Satan 
himself  is  a  horrid  idea,  the  dictate  of  gloomy  minds,  and 
wholly  inconsistent  with  God's  goodness  to  the  Son  of  his 
love.ft 

Nor  was  he  oppressed  and  overcome  by  the  sense  that  he 
was  to  bear  the  sins  of  mankind  in  his  own  body  on  the 
tree  ;  ||  and  to  redeem  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us.  §§  A  foresight  of  conferring  unspeak- 
able benefits  on  the  human  race  would  tend  to  alleviate,  and 
not  to  embitter,  the  sufferings  of  the  benevolent  Jesus  :  unless 

*  John  xiv.  31. 

t  John  xvii.  19  ;  Matt.  xx.  28  ;  xxvi.  28  ;  2  Cor.  v.  14. 
I  John  X.  17.  §  Gen.  iii.  15.  ||  Lukeiv.  13. 

1  John  xiv.  30.  **  Luke  xxii.  53.  tt  Col.  i.  13. 

XX  1  Pet.  ii.  24.  §§  Gal.  iii.  13. 

18 


206        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

at  this  time  he  was  [judicially]  stricken,  smitten  of  God,  and 
afflicted ;  *  an  idea  which  the  prophet  excludes,  and  which 
his  own  sinless  rectitude  and  God's  perfect  goodness  exclude. 
Though  God  had  wise  reasons  for  not  restraining  those  who 
afflicted  our  Lord,  yet  he  was  so  far  from  heightening  his 
afflictions  above  their  natural  course,  that  he  sent  an  angel 
from  heaven  to  strengthen  him.f  Jesus  suffered  by  the 
wickedness  of  men  ;  but  he  was  not  punished  by  the  hand  of 
God.  Nor  should  liis  death,  and  the  bitter  circumstances 
preceding  it,  be  considered  as  a  full  compensation  to  strict 
justice  ;  but  as  God's  merciful  and  gracious  method  of  recon- 
ciling man  to  himself. 

Those  divines  entertain  the  most  just  and  rational  notions 
who  do  not  think  that  our  Lord's  broken  and  dejected  spirit 
was  a  trial  supernaturally  induced ;  but  assign  natural  causes 
for  the  feelings  which  shook  his  inmost  frame.  He  felt  for 
the  wickedness  and  madness  of  those  who  persecuted  him  in 
so  unrelenting  a  manner,  notwithstanding  his  beneficent  •  con- 
duct, his  laborious  and  admirable  instructions,  and  the  con- 
vincing evidences  of  his  divine  mission  ;  for  the  irresolution, 
timidity,  and  despondency  of  his  friends,  and  for  the  ingmti- 
tude,  perfidy,  and  guilt  of  the  wretched  and  devoted  Judas. 
He  foresaw  the  unjust  offence  which  his  death  on  the  cross 
would  give  both  to  Jews  and  Gentiles ;  the  exemplary  de- 
struction of  his  country  ;  the  spirit  of  hatred  and  persecution 
which  would  arise  against  his  Church,  and  even  among  those 
who  were  called  by  his  name ;  and  the  unbelief  and  sins  of 
mankind,  which  exposed  them  to  such  a  weight  of  punishment 
here  and  hereafler.  And  these  and  such  like  painful  sensa- 
tions and  gloomy  prospects  made  the  deepest  impression  at  a 

♦  Isa.  liii.  4. 

t  Luke  xxii.  43.  That  some  omitted  this  part  of  the  history,  see 
Lardner's  Cred.,  Part  II.  Vol.  III.  p.  132  ;  Hii*t.  of  Heretics,  252  ;  and  Oro- 
tius's  note  in  loc.,  who  says  :  "  Illaudahilis  fuit  et  supcrstitio  et  tcmcritas 
illorum  qui  hanc  partiouhun  et  Rcquentcm  dc  sudore  dclcvere.  —  Christiu 
desttfatas  divinitatis  in  se  hahitAntis  virtute,  humanseque  naturie  rclictas, 
—  opus  Itabuit  angeloruin  solatio." 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.  207 

time  when  he  had  a  lively  view  of  the  immediate  indignities 
and  insults,  of  the  disgrace,  and  horrid  pains  of  death,  which 
awaited  him  during  the  long  and  sharp  trial  of  his  wisdom 
and  goodness.* 

When  he  came  to  the  place  where  a  follower  and  friend 
was  to  betray  him,  and  where  the  Jews  were  ignominiously  to 
seize  and  bind  him  as  a  malefactor,  the  scene  excited  a  per- 
turbation of  mind,  and  he  was  depressed  by  sorrow  and  an- 
guish proportioned  to  his  exquisite  sensibihty,  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  wrongs,  and  his  extensive  foresight. 

And  how  did  our  Lord  act  under  the  extreme  sorrow 
which  overwhelmed  him  ?  He  offered  up  the  following  pray- 
er to  his  Father  :  f  "  My  Father,  all  things  which  are  fit  and 
right  are  possible  with  thee :  if  it  be  possible,  if  the  wise  plan 
of  thy  moral  government  admit  of  it,  let  this  bitter  and  deadly 
cup  pass  from  me :  nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou 
wilt.  If  this  cup  of  pain  and  tortuie  cannot  pass  from  me, 
but  that  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done."  J  He  thrice  addressed 
himself  to  his  Father  in  words  of  the  same  import.  And 
being  in  an  agony,  having  the  prospect  of  an  excruciating 
death  immediately  before  him,  he  prayed  the  more  intensely : 
and  his  body  was  so  affected  by  the  state  of  his  mind,  that 
drops  exuded  from  him,  the  copiousness  of  which  bore  resem- 
blance to  drops  of  blood.  §     The  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the 

*  See  most  of  these  causes  well  enlarged  on  in  Dr.  Harwood's  Disser- 
tation on  our  Saviour's  Agony, 

t  Jortin  says,  after  Grotius  on  Matt.  xxvi.  39  :  "  We  must  observe  that 
our  Lord  was  made  like  unto  us  in  all  things,  sin  excepted  ;  and  that, 
upon  this  and  other  occasions,  he  experienced  in  himself  what  we  also 
frequently  find  within  us,  two  contraiy  wills,  or,  to  speak  more  accurate- 
ly, a  strife  between  inclination  and  reason ;  in  which  cases,  though  rea- 
son gets  the  better  of  inclination,  we  may  be  said  to  do  a  thing  willingly, 
yet  with  an  unwilling  mind."  Vol.  IV.  Serm.  III.  p.  42.  The  whole 
discourse  should  be  attended  to  by  those  wlio  study  this  subject.  I  like- 
wise recommend  a  careful  perusal  of  Lardner's  Sermons  on  our  Lord's 
sufferings. 

J  Matt,  xxvi,  39,  &c.,  and  parallel  places. 

§  Toi)f  Tra^f  t?  e/cetVovs,  Koi  TrapaTrXrja-iovs  alixaros  Bpofx^ois,  Ibparag 
i^lBp'aare.     Photii  ep,  138,  p,  194,  ed.  Lond.  1651. 


^08  OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

Hebrews  observes  that  he  "  offered  up  prayers  and  supplica- 
tions to  him  who  was  able  to  save  him  from  death,  with  a 
strong  cry  and  with  tears ;  and  was  heard "  from  the  filial 
reverence  with  which  he  prayed.*  God  administered  to  him 
extraordinary  consolation,  f  But  thus  far  only  his  supplica- 
tions availed.    For  the  cup  of  death  was  not  removed  from  him. 

Of  this  scene  our  Lord  intended  to  make  three  of  his 
apostles  witnesses :  for  he  advanced  only  a  small  distance 
from  them,  and  the  moon  was  full.  But  they  slept  through 
sorrow  ;  contrary  to  their  Master's  commands,  ever  given  for 
the  gravest  reasons,  and  which  should  have  been  particularly 
obeyed  in  such  circumstances.  At  the  close  of  it  he  said. 
The  design  for  which  I  separated  you  from  my  other  disciples 
being  ended,  "  sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest."  J  On 
uttering  these  words,  he  heard  the  approach  of  those  who 
came  to  apprehend  him,  and  immediately  added :  "  It  is 
enough  :  the  hour  is  come  :  behold,  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed 
into  the  hands  of  sinners.  Rise,  let  us  advance :  behold,  he 
who  betrayeth  me  is  at  hand."  § 

Here  some  observations  are  necessary. 

The  Captain  of  our  salvation,  who  was  made  perfect 
through  sufferings,  ||  set  a  most  useful  example  to  his  followers 
who  were  doomed  to  undergo  the  same  fiery  trial.  He  gave 
them  no  lesson  of  a  proud  and  stoical  insensibility.  The 
natural  evils  of  life  he  treated  as  evils ;  %  and  a  violent 
death  by  lingering  torture,  as  the  greatest  natural  evil. 


*  Heb.  y.  7.  t  Luke  xxii.  43.  $  Matt  xxvi.  45. 

^  Mark  xiv.  41,  42,  The  word  (i7r«x*ti  whiclj  Ilcsychius  explains  by 
drroxprf,  f^apKtiy  seems  a  retracting  of  wliat  he  had  just  allowed.  "  But 
enouj^h  of  sleep."    He  is  represented  as  speaking  to  the  instant. 

II  Heb.  ii   10. 

H  With  a  view  to  the  evils  wliirh  arc  thirk  so>vn  in  life,  or,  perhaps,  to 
the  persecutions  of  his  followers,  he  observed,  that  sufficient  unto  the  day 
was  the  evil  thereof  (Matt.  vi.  34.)  Ho  spoke  the  lanjruage  of  nature, 
when  he  called  the  temporal  advantages  of  riches  gnod  things ;  and 
Lazarus's  pain  and  poverty,  evil  things.  (Luke  xvi.  25.)  And,  again, 
when  ho  thus  foretold  IMor's  cmcitixion,  that  anotlier  should  gird  him, 
and  carry  him  whither  he  tcould  not.     (John  xxi.  18.) 


OF  oirR  lord's  fortitude.  209 

He  foresaw  that  some  of  his  disciples  would  madly  court 
persecution.*  But  he  gave  no  sanction  to  such  enthusiasm 
by  his  own  conduct.  lie  had  before  taught  them  to  use  pru- 
dence in  avoiding  persecution  ;  f  and  he  now  taught  them  to 
pray  against  it  with  perseverance  and  earnestness,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  the  most  entire  resignation.  And  this  is  true 
constancy  in  a  Christian  martyr,  if  he  first  fervently  prays 
against  sufferings  which  every  man  must  abhor,  and  then 
firmly  undergoes  them,  if  it  is  God's  will  not  to  avert  them 
from  him.  It  was  fit  that  our  Lord's  example  in  this  respect 
should  be  openly  proposed  to  the  world ;  and  I  believe  that 
every  sober  and  pious  Christian,  of  the  greatest  constitutional 
fortitude,  has  publicly  or  secretly  followed  it,  from  the  irre- 
sistible bent  of  human  nature.  J 

Our  Lord  also  taught  Christians  in  all  ages,  what  the 
depravity  of  the  world  made  it  necessary  for  many  to  bear  in 
mind,  that  a  state  of  the  sharpest  sufferings  was  consistent 
with  the  favor  of  God  ;  and  that  the  most  perfect  innocence, 
and  the  brightest  prospect  of  future  glory,  could  not  over- 
come the  natural  horror  of  them.  To  prevent  despair  in  any, 
he  made  himself  a  pattern  to  the  weakest  and  tenderest  of 
mankind.§  "  He  sanctified  the  passion  of  fear,  and  hallowed 
natural  sadnesses,  that  we  might  not  think  the  infelicities  of 
our  nature  and  the  calamities  of  our  temporal  condition  to 
become  criminal,  so  long  as  they  make  us  not  to  omit  a  duty. 
He  that  fears  death,  and  trembles  at  the  approximation  of  it, 
and  yet  had  rather  die  again  than  sin  once,  hath  not  sinned 
in  his  fear :  Christ  hath  hallowed  it,  and  the  necessitous  con- 
dition of  his  nature  is  his  excuse."  || 

I  have  supposed  that  our  Lord  prayed  against  his  death, 
and  not  against  his  dejection  of  mind ;  agreeably  to  his^  words 
in   another   place,    where   his   crucifixion   must    be   meant: 

=*  Lardner's  Testimonies,  II.  174,  358;  III.  349,  351.     On  Heretics, 
p.  238. 
t  Matt.  X.  23.  X  See  Luke  xviii.  7. 

S  Archbishop  Tillotson,  Serm.  CXXXVI.  p.  236,  foL 
il  Bishop  Taylor's  Life  of  Christ,  p.  488. 
18* 


210        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

"  Shall  I  not  drink  of  the  cup  which  my  Father  hath  given 
me  ?  "  *  I  do  not  else  see  how  the  Apostle's  words  have  due 
force ;  where  he  observes  that  our  Lord  prayed  to  him  who 
was  able  to  save  him  from  death.f  I  cannot  else  understand 
St.  Matthew's  words,  "  O  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not 
pass  from  me,  unless  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done  "  :  |  which 
must  refer  to  a  future  cup  of  suffering,  and  not  to  one  which 
he  had  already  drunk.  Nor  do  the  strong  expressions  used 
by  our  Lord  admit  of  the  other  supposition.  He  could  not 
doubt  whether  it  were  possible  §  that  God  could  remove  from 
him  his  discomposure  and  dismay. 

I  say  then  that  our  Lord  prayed  against  his  death :  "  My 
Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me."  ||  "  Fa- 
ther, all  things  are  possible  with  tiiee  :  remove  this  cup  from 
me." 'If  "Father,  if  thou  be  willing  to  remove  from  me  this 
cup,  weU.''  **  However,  he  immediately  added  words  to  this 
eifect :  "  Nevertheless,  not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done."  But 
how  could  he  pray  against  an  event  which  he  himself  and  so 
many  prophets  had  foretold?  Lardner  has  answered,  that, 
notwithstanding  predictions,  good  and  evil  will  influence  the 
mind ;  and  we  should  perform  our  duty  suitably  to  our  cir- 
cumstances. Our  Lord,  says  he,  foretold  the  fall  of  Peter, 
the  treachery  of  Judas,  and  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem ; 
and  yet  used  the  natural  means  to  prevent  them,  ft  What 
this  judicious  writer  has  suggested  may  be  strengthened  by 
observing  that  many  of  God's  commands  and  predictions, 
though  expressed  absolutely,  appear  in  the  history  of  his 
providence  to  have  been  conditional  and  revocable.  Abra- 
ham was  commanded  to  sacrifice  his  son ;  and  God  recalled 
the  command,  when  he  had  proved  his  faith  and  obedience.  J| 
David  besought  God  for  his  child  with  fasting  and  tears,  after 
Nathan  had  foretold  his  death :  for  he  said,  "  Who  can  tell 
whether  God  will  be  gracious  unto  me,  that  the  child  may 

*  John  xviii.  11.  t  Hcb.  v.  7.  }  Ch.  xxvi.  42. 

^  Matt.  xxvi.  39,  42  ;  Mark  xiv.  35,  36.  ||  Matt.  xxvi.  39. 

H  Murk  xiv.  36.  ♦*  Luke  xxii.  42. 

tt  Sermons,  Vol.  II.  p.  70.  ||  Gen.  xxiL 


OF    OUR    LORD'S    FORTITUDE.  211 

live  ?  "  *  Jonah  was  sent  to  prophesy  against  the  inhabitants 
of  Nineveh,  that  their  city  should  be  overthrown  in  forty 
days;  and  yet  God  spared  them  on  their  humiliation  and 
repentance,  f  God  said  to  Ahab  by  the  Prophet  Elijah, 
"  Behold,  I  will  bring  evil  upon  thee  "  :  J  and  yet  the  sentence 
was  remitted  in  part ;  for  God  afterwards  declared  that,  be- 
cause Ahab  humbled  himself,  he  would  not  bring  the  evil  in 
his  days ;  but  in  his  son's  days  would  he  bring  the  evil  on 
his  house.  And  though,  in  Hezekiah's  sickness,  God  said  to 
him  by  Isaiah,  "  Give  charge  concerning  thy  family  ;  for  thou 
shalt  die,  and  not  live  "  ;  §  yet,  in  consequence  of  his  fervent 
supplication,  God  healed  him  on  the  third  day,  and  added 
to  his  life  fifteen  years. 

But  why  were  not  the  prayers  offered  up  by  our  Lord 
effectual ;  since  he  said  to  Peter  very  soon  afterwards, 
"  Thinkest  thou  that  I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he 
shall  give  me  at  hand  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels  ?  "  |I 
I  answer,  because  our  Lord  prayed  with  resignation  to  his 
Father's  will,  and  not  absolutely.  "  None  took  his  life  from 
him,  but  he  laid  it  down  of  himself  He  had  power  to  lay  it 
down,  and  he  had  power  to  take  it  again."  ^  He  submitted 
to  death  from  a  conviction  of  its  fitness.  When  his  anguish 
of  mind  was  allayed,  and  his  commotion  natural  to  man 
subsided,  his  language  was,  "  Shall  I  not  drink  the  cup  which 
my  Father  hath  given  me?"**  "How  [else]  shall  the 
Scripture  be  fulfilled,  that  thus  it  must  be  ? "  as  if  this  par- 
ticular reason  for  his  death  had  been  recollected  by  him,  or 
had  been  recalled  to  his  mind  ft  by  the  angel  who  appeared 
to  him.  J:j: 

But  it  may  be  urged  that  he,  who  had  a  glory  with  the 


*  2  Sam.  xii.  t  Jon.  iii.  J  1  Kings  xxi.  21,  29. 

§  2  Kings  XX.   Here  see  1  Sam.  xxiii.  12  ;  Jcr.  xviii.  7,  8  ;  xxxviii.  17. 

II  Matt.  xxvi.  53. 

1  John  X.  18.  **  Matt.  xxvi.  54  ;  Mark  xiv.  49. 

•H-  See  Mark  ix.  12  ;  Luke  xviii.  31  ;  Matt.  xxvi.  24. 

JJ  Luke  xxii.  43. 


212        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

Father  before  the  world  was,  *  must  have  known  the  neces- 
eity  of  that  event  against  which  he  prayed. 

I  answer,  that  to  assert  the  strict  and  absolute  necessity  of 
Christ's  death  becomes  not  us  who  know  so  little  of  God's 
unsearchable  ways  ;  t  that  we  do  not  understand  the  manner 
in  which  the  divine  and  human  natures  were  united  in  Christ, 
and  therefore  may  doubt  whether  the  superior  nature  did  not 
sometimes  forsake  the  inferior,  J  and  withhold  its  communic^i- 
tions  from  it ;  and  that  the  wise  providence  of  God  might  so 
order  events  as  they  would  most  benefit  the  world  in  a  moral 
view,  and  therefore  might  exhibit  our  Lord  in  such  circum- 
stances as  furnished  most  instruction  and  consolation  to  his 
persecuted  followers. 

I  now  proceed  to  show  our  Lord's  composure  of  mind,  after 
he  had  thus  strongly  expressed  the  perturbation  which  liad 
been  raised  in  him  by  his  foreknowledge  of  the  many  dark 
events  which  awaited  him,  and  particularly  by  his  abhorrence 
of  a  violent  and  excruciating  death. 

He  went  forth  to  meet  the  traitor,  and  the  officers  sent  to 
apprehend  him ;  §  he  discovered  himself  to  them ;  |j  and 
when  God  had  struck  them  with  such  a  miraculous  awe  that 

♦  John  xvii.  5. 

t  See  Ben  Mordecai,  Letter  VI.  85,  p.  748,  &o.,  8vo. 

X  See  Ben  Mordecai,  VI.  89.  "  A.<?  to  the  objection  that  the  weakness 
of  the  flesh  was  absorbed  in  the  divinity,  it  may  just  as  safely  l>e  asserted 
that  the  poWer  of  the  divinity  was  absorbed  in  the  flesh  :  for  as  to  tho 
consequence  of  the  conjunction  of  tho  angel  of  the  covcnatit  with  tlio 
flesh  in  which  ho  was  incarnate ;  or  in  wliat  degree  tlie  temptations  of 
Chri.st  might  affect  him  ;  that  is,  how  easy  or  how  diflicult  it  might  be 
for  Christ  to  resist  them  ;  I  presume  we  arc  entirely  ignorant :  and  have 
no  right  to  argue  from  our  ignonmcc  against  the  fact  itself."  And  Gro- 
tias  and  Tillotson  say  that  tho  Divine  Wisdom  communicated  it.self  to 
Christ's  human  soul  according  to  his  pleasure,  and  as  circumstances  re- 
quired. Grot,  on  Mark  xiii.  32.  Tillotson,  Vol.  IX.  p.  273.  Beza  also 
Bays,  "  Imo  et  ipsa  Btorrjros  plenitudo  scse,  protit  et  quatcnus  ipsi  libnit, 
humanitati  assumpto)  insinuavit."  On  Luke  ii.  .^2.  Thc.<5e  three  last 
authorities  are  quoted  by  Mr.  Farmer  on  the  Temptation,  p.  130.  See 
Mark  iii.  9  ;  Luke  ix.  52  ;  Mark  xi.  13  ;  xiii.  32  ;  Matt.  xxiv.  20. 

4  John  xvili.  4.  ii  John  xxiii.  5. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.  213 

they  fell  on  the  ground,*  and  had  thus  demonstrated  Jesus's 
power  of  restraining  their  violence,  our  Lord  made  them 
this  wise  and  benevolent  request,  "  If  ye  seek  me,  let  these 
[my  attendants]  depart."  f  He  mildly  addressed  the  perfidi- 
ous Judas : }  he  was  so  collected  as  instantly  to  perceive  the 
necessity  of  working  a  miracle  to  prevent  the  ill  consequences 
of  Peter's  affectionate  but  rash  violence  ;  §  and  he  forewarned 
that  apostle,  and  all  mankind,  that  drawing  the  sword  in  the 
cause  of  his  religion  would  involve  the  good  and  bad,  the 
persecuted  and  persecutor,  in  undistinguished  destruction :  || 
he  declared  his  readiness  to  fulfil  the  Scriptures  by  his 
death :  %  he  meekly  expostulated  with  the  people  for  their 
violent  and  disgraceful  manner  of  apprehending  hira :  **  while 
he  stood  before  Caiaphas,  he  showed  a  composed  attention  to 
Peter's  irresolution  and  timidity,tt  and  penetrated  him  with  a 
sense  of  them  by  the  majesty  of  his  eye :  at  the  "same  time, 
he  replied  with  the  most  exemplary  self-command  to  the 
officer  who  struck  him  for  answering  the  high-priest,  in  a 
manner  full  of  reason  and  dignity :  H  before  Caiaphas,  and 
the  whole  council  of  the  chief  priests,  elders,  and  scribes,  he 
entered  into  no  vindication  of  himself,  no  explanation  of  his 
perverted  expressions,  against  the  false  witnesses  suborned  to 
accuse  him :  §§  but  when  adjured  by  the  living  God  to  say 
whether  he  was  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  blessed  God,  he 
answered,  I  am ;  though  he  knew  that  they  would  impute  it 
to  him  as  blasphemy,  a  crime  which  by  the  law  of  Moses 
was  punishable  with  death.  |||| 

Fortitude  under  actual  sufferings,  is  patience ;  and  sub- 
mission to  them  because  they  are  the  will  of  God,  is  resigna- 
tion. 

How  did  Jesus  act,  when  those  who  beheld  him  spat  in  his 


*  John  xviii.  6.  t  John  xviii.  8. 

J  Miitt.  xxvi.  50  ;  Luke  xxii.  48.  §  Luke  xxii.  51. 

II  Matt.  xxvi.  52.  T[  Matt.  xxvi.  54.  **  Matt.  xxvi.  55. 

tt  Luke  xxii.  61.  JJ  John  xviii.  23.  §§  Matt.  xxvi.  62. 

1111  Lev.  xxiv.  16. 


214  OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

face ;  *  when  they  blindfolded  him,  and  smote  him  on  the 
face  with  the  palms  of  their  hands,  or  struck  him  with  their 
staves ;  when  they  derided  his  prophetic  spirit  and  Messiah- 
ship  in  this  taunting  language,  Prophesy  who  is  he  that  smote 
thee  ?  Under  all  these  circumstances  of  indignity,  "  he 
opened  not  his  mouth,  like  a  lamb  led  to  the  slaughter."  f 

When  he  stood  before  Pilate,  he  astonished  him  by  not 
seeking  to  avert  death  in  the  usual  way  of  defending  himseli 
against  the  accusations  of  his  enemies :  J  and  as  before  the 
Jewish  high-priest  and  council  he  acknowledged  himself  to  be 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  which  had  the  appearance  of 
blasphemy  ;  so  before  the  Roman  governor  he  confessed  that 
he  was  a  king,  which  had  the  appearance  of  sedition.  § 

Before  Herod  he  conducted  himself  with  the  same  majesty, 
the  same  patient  endurance  of  wrongs,  and  the  same  resolu- 
tion to  decline  the  means  of  self-preservation  which  became 
his  peculiar  circumstances.  ||  He  refused  to  gratify  the  idle 
curiosity  of  the  tetrarch  by  working  a  miracle,  and  to  give 
that  account  of  his  life  and  ministry  which  might  have  been 
credited  on  the  authority  of  others  :  for  which  Herod  and  his 
soldiers  treated  him  with  contempt  and  scorn,  and  sent  him 
back  to  Pilate  arrayed  in  a  gorgeous  robe,  in  derision  of  his 
claim  as  a  king. 

"WHien  our  Lord  was  again  brought  before  Pilate,  a  robber 
and  a  murderer  ^  was  preferred  to  him  by  that  very  multitude 

♦  Matt.  xxvi.  67,  68,  and  parallel  places.  What  a  very  strong  mark 
of  contempt  spitting  on  a  person  is  aecouiitod  in  the  East,  see  in  Bishop 
Lowth  on  Isaiah  1.  6.  Demosthenes  closes  the  apgravatinp  circumstanced 
of  a  striker  in  this  manner,  orav  KoubvXois,  orav  cVi  KopprfSy  when  mth 
the  hand,  tchen  on  the  cheek:  he  adds,  these  circumstances  Kivel  Kai  f^umycn, 
WMWY  and  transport  with  raqe ;  and  in  the  same  oration  lie  observes,  ovk 
fWt  TOiv  ndvTcau  ovbev  vfiptas  d<f>npr]T6Tfpov,  of  all  things  there  is  noth- 
xntj  more  intolvraNe  than  fH'titlant  and  insolmt  injury.  In  Midian.  So 
Quinct.  Lib.  VI.  c  1  :  '* PlurinmmaflriTtntrocitutis  modus,  si  con/uwie/iW; 
nt  Demosthenes  ex  j)iute  percussi  coriwris  invidiam  Midiae  quaerit.** 

t  Isa  liii   7.  I  Matt  xxvii    13,  U. 

S  John  xviii.  37.  II  Luko  xxiii.  8-  U. 

^  Matt.  xxviL  20,  and  parallel  places. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.        215 

who  had  heard  his  divine  instructions,  and  seen,  or  perhaps 
experienced,  his  beneficial  power :  *  nor  did  even  this  vile 
indignity  extort  from  the  meek  Jesus  a  word  of  expostula- 
tion. 

Then  Pilate  commanded  that  Jesus  should  be  scourged  ;  f 
after  which  severe  and  ignominious  punishment  the  whole 
band  of  the  Roman  soldiers  made  him  their  sport,  crowned 
him  with  thorns,  clothed  him  in  purple,  delivered  him  a  mock- 
sceptre,  paid  him  mock-adoration,  addressed  him  with  mock- 
titles  of  royalty,  spat  on  him,  and  smote  him  on  the  head. 

The  sight  of  Jesus,  thus  derided  and  afflicted,  did  not  satiate 
the  fury  of  his  enemies ;  but  after  they  had  afforded  him  a 
further  opportunity  of  displaying  his  dignity,  and  resolution 
to  meet  death,  by  giving  no  answer  to  Pilate's  question, 
"  Whence  art  thou  ? "  J  they  extorted  the  condemnation  of 
him  from  his  worldly-minded  judge  by  their  loud  and  artful 
solicitations.  § 

Then  was  Jesus  led  away  to  be  crucified  :  his  cross,  or  part 
of  it,  was  laid  on  him,  as  the  manner  was  ;  and  he  bare  it  till 
his  exhausted  strength  sunk  under  it :  "  and  two  others  also, 
who  were  malefactors,  were  led  with  him  to  be  put  to  death."  || 
On  the  way,  a  great  multitude  of  women  bewailed  and  la- 
mented him :  but  he  turned  about  to  them,  and,  with  a  heart 
full  of  commiseration,  bade  them  deplore  their  own  impending 
Bufferings,  and  not  his;  declaring  at  the  same  time,  but  in 
figurative  and  covert  language,  that,  if  the  innocent  suffered 

*  Josephus,  speaking  of  the  Pharisees,  says,  roa-avrrjv  Se  exovai  rrjv 
icrxvv  Trapa  tS  TrX-qdei,  cos  Koi  Kara  ^acrcKeoiS  tl  Xeyovres,  koI  Kara 
dpxi^pecos,  €vdvs  Tna-Teveadai  Ant.  13.  10.  5,  quoted  by  Harwood 
on  John  ii,  24.  "  They  have  so  much  power  with  the  people,  that,  even  if 
they  allege  anything  against  the  king  or  high-priest,  they  are  immediately 
believed." 

t  John  xix.  1-3,  and  parallel  places.  J  John  xix.  9. 

§  We  may  account  for  Pilate's  conduct  from  his  knowledge  of  Tibe- 
rius's  extreme  jealousy  and  cruelty. 

II  So  Luke  xxiii.  32  should  be  translated  and  pointf»d.  "  Sed  oblitua 
sum  Lncae  xxiii.  32  in  KaKovpyoi  utrinque  hjqjostigmen  notare,"  says  H. 
Stephens,  in  his  curious  preface  to  his  Greek  Testament,  12mo,  1576. 


210        OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude. 

such  calamities,  much  greater  would  befall  those  whose  crimes 
made  them  ripe  for  destruction :  "  If  they  do  these  thiugs  in 
the  green  tree,  what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry."  * 

When  he  came  to  the  place  of  crucifixion,  he  was  offered 
wine  mingled  with  myrrh,  which  was  designed  to  blunt  the 
sense  of  pain  by  inducing  a  state  of  stupefaction :  but  he 
received  it  not :  he  declined  this  office  of  humanity,  that  he 
might  show  himself  unappalled  by  the  horrors  of  instant 
crucifixion ;  and  that  he  might  fully  possess  his  reason,  and 
thus  display  the  virtues  suitable  to  his  high  character  in  the 
season  of  so  severe  a  trial. 

A  title,  deriding  his  royal  descent  and  dignity,  was  placed 
on  the  cross  to  which  he  was  fixed.  He  was  crucified  be- 
tween two  malefactors;  and,  probably  while  the  nails  were 
piercing  his  hands  and  feet,  when  the  sense  and  feeling  of  his 
ignominious  sufferings  were  strongest,  he  thus  prayed  and 
pleaded  for  his  murderers :  "  Father,  forgive  them  ;  for  they 
know  not  what  they  do."  f 

In  this  situation,  which  might  have  excited  the  pity  of  the 
most  unfeeling  spectator,  and  of  the  bitterest  enemy,  J  our 
Lord  was  reviled  and  mocked,  his  power  was  questioned,  his 
prophecies  perverted,  and  his  dignity  blasphemed,  by  the 
Jewish  people,  by  the  Roman  soldiers,  and  by  the  chief 
priests,  scribes,  and  elders ;  the  rulers  mixing  themselves  with 
the  throng,  to  feast  their  eyes  with  his  sufferings,  and  to  insult 
him  under  them. 

But  such  conduct  served  only  to  display  the  greatness  of 
the  sufferer.  The  patience  of  Jesus  remained  unmoved.  Here, 
as  when  he  stood  before  his  judges,  he  left  his  life  and  doc- 
trine, his  prophecies  and  miracles,  the  supernatural  knowledge 
displayed  by  him,  and  the  voices  from  heaven  which  hare  him 

*  Luke  xxiii.  27-31.  t  Luke  xxiii.  34. 

X  Qtafia  ft'  ^v 
Toiovrov  olov  koi  arvyovvr  trroiKrlaai. 

CEd.  Tyr.  1319. 
"  Such  a  Pipht 
Kight  raise  compassion  in  an  enemy." 


OF    OUR    lord's    FORTITIjDE.  217 

witness,  to  speak  for  him  a  stronger  language  than  words 
could  convey.  As  Origen  observes,*  his  silence,  under  all 
the  indignities  and  reproaches  which  he  met  with,  showed 
more  fortitude  and  patience  than  anything  said  by  the  Greeks 
under  their  sufferings. 

And  again,  when  one  of  the  malefactors  reproached  him, 
he  answered  him  not :  but  when  the  other  said,  "  Lord,  re- 
member me  when  thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom,"  f  he  thus 
acknowledged  himself  to  be  a  king,  and  one  who  had  the  keys 
of  heaven  and  hell :  I  "  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  to-day  shalt 
thou  be  with  me  in  paradise  "  ;  in  the  state  of  those  who  are 
separated,  as  in  a  garden  of  delight,  for  God's  acceptance. 

It  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  our  Lord's  composure,  that, 
in  the  midst  of  his  exquisite  pains,  he  recommended  his 
mother  to  that  most  benevolent  Apostle,  St.  John. 

The  next  circumstance  in  the  order  of  events  is,  that  about 
the  ninth  hour  our  Lord  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "  My  God ! 
my  God !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  §  As  the  words  in 
the  original  Psalm  ||  do  not  import  a  dereliction  of  the  Deity, 
they  cannot  be  thus  understood  when  used  by  our  Lord.  In 
this  strong  language  the  Psalmist  described  imminent  distress 
and  danger  ^  from  the  sword  **  of  scornful  ft  and  mighty 
enemies.  H  He  did  not  mean  that  he  was  totally  forsaken  by 
Jehovah,  whom  he  afterwards  entreated  not  to  be  far  from 
him,  §§  whom  he  called  his  strength,  ||||  whom  he  characterized 
as  not  hiding  his  face  from  the  afflicted,  ^%  and  to  whom  he 
promised  praise  and  thanksgiving  in  return  for  the  mercies 
which  he  implored.***  In  the  same  terms  our  Lord  expressed 
the  greatness  of  his  anguish  ;  when,  in  the  prophetic  words 
of  the  Psalm,  which  is  sometimes  applicable  to  David  and 
sometimes  to  the  Messiah,  "  he  was  poured  out  like  water, 
his  bones  were  separated  from  each  other,  his  heart  was  like 

*  Lib.  VII.  §  54  -  56,  pp.  368,  369.     Lardner's  Test.  II.  317. 
t  Luke  xxiii.  42.  J  Rev.  i.  18.  §  Matt,  xxvii.  46. 

II  Psalm  xxii.  IT  Ibid.,  11.  **  Ibid.,  20. 

ft  Ibid.,  7,  8.  tt  Ibid.,  12,  13,  21.      §§  Ibid.,  11,  19. 

Illi  Ibid.,  19.  HH  Ibid.,  24.  ***  Ibid.,  25. 

19 


218  OP    OUR   lord's    FORTITIDE. 

wax,  it  was  melted  within  him."  *  Our  Lord's  language,  I 
85ay,  was  dictated  by  extreme  suffering,  and  not  by  distrust 
In  the  style  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,!  when  God  permitted 
individuals  or  nations  to  be  oppressed  and  afflicted,  he  was 
said  to  hide  his  face  from  them,  to  forget,  reject,  or  foi'sake 
them.  Our  Lord  could  not  suppose  that  God  had  cast  him 
off,  because  immediately  before  and  after  these  words  he 
reposed  an  entire  confidence  in  him.  During  his  crucifixion 
he  twice  called  God  his  Father,  J  he  declared  his  assurance 
that  he  should  enter  into  a  state  of  happiness,  §  and  accord- 
ingly he  resigned  his  departing  spirit  into  his  Father's  hands.  || 
He  likewise  saw,  during  the  space  of  three  hours  before  he 
expired,  that  God  miraculously  interposed  in  his  behalf,  by 
diminishing  the  light  of  the  sun  and  shedding  a  comparative 
darkness  over  the  whole  land,  or,  at  least,  that  part  of  it 
which  was  adjacent  to  Jerusalem.  When  Jesus  had  thus 
poured  forth  his  sorrows,  in  the  words  of  a  sacred  hymn 
which  foretold  many  circumstances  of  his  death,  God,  who 
had,  as  it  were,  hidden  his  face  from  him  for  a  moment,  had 
mercy  on  him  with  everlasting  kindness,  %  and  speedily  closed 
the  scene  of  his  sufferings.  For,  immediately  afler  this, 
"  Jesus,  knowing  that  all  things  were  now  accomplished,  that 
the  Scrii)ture  might  be  fulfilled,  saith,  I  thirst."  **  This  thirst 
was  the  natural  consequence  of  his  pains,  and  of  that  effusion 
of  blood  which  was  occasioned  by  piercing  his  hands  and  his 
feet.  But,  unless  it  had  remained  that  the  pi-ophecy  ft  of  the 
Psalmist  should  receive  its  full  completion,  JJ  it  was  a  circum- 
stance on  which  he  would  have  observed  a  majestic  silence : 
such  was  his  command  over  himself,  and  so  attentive  was  he 


♦  Psalm  xxii.  14. 

t  Sec  Jol)  XX.  19;  P.-^alm  xxxvii.  25  ;  xxxviii.  10,21,22;  xlii.  9; 
xliii.  2  ;   Ixxi.  11,  12,  18  ;   Isii.  xlix.  14  ;  liv.  7,  8. 

t  Ltikc  xxiil.  34,  46.  \  lWn\.,  43.  ||  Ibid.,  46. 

t  Isa.  liv.  7,  8.  **  John  xix.  28. 

tt  See  Lnnlner's  Tost.,  II.  303,  §  24,  where  Origcn  objecta  that  Jesus 
was  unable  patiently  to  endure  thirst 

ti  See  Psalm  Ixix.  21 ;  Matt  xxvii.  34. 


OF  OUR  lord's  fortitude.  219 

tLat  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  prophets  should  pass  away. 
"  Now  there  was  set  a  vessel  full  of  vinegar,"  * .  the  mean 
drink  of  the  Roman  soldiers  ;  and  one  of  the  by-standers  filled 
a  sponge  with  vinegar,  and  placed  it  upon  a  bunch  of  hyssop, 
and  by  means  of  a  reed  advanced  it  to  his  mouth.  "  When 
Jesus  therefore  had  received  the  vinegar,  he  said,  .It  is  fin- 
ished "  :  t  the  prophecies  concerning  me,  antec  -jdently  to  my 
death,  have  had  their  accomplishment:  I  have  finished  my 
laborious  and  painful  course :  I  have  thus  far  performed  thy 
will,  0  God.  Immediately  after  this,  he  expired  with  words 
expressive  of  a  perfect  reliance  on  God,  and  a  firm  persuasion 
of  his  acceptance :  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit."  I 

Thus  did  our  Lord  appear  as  great  in  his  sufferings  as  in 
his  actions,  in  his  death  as  in  his  life ;  and  thus  did  he  exhibit 
a  wonderful  example  of  forgiveness  and  composure,  of  mag- 
nanimity and  conscious  dignity,  of  filial  love  and  pious  resig- 
nation, in  the  midst  of  the  most  horrid  tortures  that  human 
nature  is  capable  of  sustaining. 


*  John  xix.  29,  and  parallel  places. 

t  John  xix.  30.  J  Luke  xxiii.  46. 


THE  DOCTEINE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

By  benjamin  JOWETT,  M.  A., 

REOIDS  FKOF£SSOB,  OF  GREEK  IN  THE  UNIVERSITT  OF  OXFOBD.* 


The  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  stands  in  the  same  relation 
to  the  doctrine  of  righteousness  by  faith,  as  the  object  in  the 
language  of  philosophy  to  the  subject.  Either  is  incomplete 
without  the  other,  yet  they  admit  also  of  being  considered 
separately.  "\Yhen  we  pierce  the  veil  of  flesh,  and  ask  the 
meaning  of  the  bleeding  form  on  Mount  Calvary,  a  voice 
answers,  "  The  atonement  once  made  for  the  sins  of  men." 
It  seems  like  the  form  of  any  other  dying  man,  but  a  mystery 
is  contained  in  it.  We  penetrate  deeper  into  the  meaning  o{ 
the  word  "  atonement,"  and  new  relations  disclose  themselves 
between  God  and  man.  There  is  more  than  we  see  in  that 
outward  fact,  more  than  we  can  understand  in  that  mysterious 
word,  "  The  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world."  "  God  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  to  himself, 
and  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them." 

Yet  how  can  this  be,  consistently  with  the  truth  and  holi- 
ness of  God  ?  Can  he  see  us  other  than  we  really  are  ?  Can 
he  impute  to  us  what  we  never  did  ?  Would  he  have  pun- 
ished us  for  what  was  not  our  own  fault  ?  It  is  not  the  pride 
of  human   reason  which  suggests  these  questions,   but   the 

*  From  his  Commentary  on  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  &c. 
19* 


222  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

monil  sense  which  he  himself  has  implanted  in  the  breast  of 
each  one  of  us.  Here  is  a  lesson  of  comfort  and  also  of  per- 
plexity ;  Jesus  Christ  is  a  comer-stone  and  a  stumbling-block 
at  once.  We  can  hardly  receive  the  consolation  without  seek- 
ing to  remove  the  perplexity.  Our  faith  would  shake  if  taken 
off  the  foundations  of  truth  and  right.  The  feeble  brain  of 
man  reaches  but  a  little  way  into  the  counsels  of  the  Most 
High  :  —  "  My  thoughts  are  not  as  your  thoughts,  neither  ai'e 
your  ways  my  ways,"  saith  the  Lord.  But  no  difference  be- 
tween God  and  man  can  be  a  reason  for  regarding  God  as  less 
just  or  less  true  than  the  being  whom  he  has  made.  He  is 
only  incomprehensible  to  us  because  he  is  infinitely  more  so. 

It  might  seem  at  first  sight  no  hard  matter  to  prove  that 
God  was  just  and  true.  It  might  seem  as  if  the  suggestion 
of  the  opposite  needed  no  other  answer  than  the  exclamation 
of  the  Apostle,  "  God  forbid !  for  how  shall  God  judge  the 
world  ?  "  But  the  perplexities  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atone- 
ment are  the  growth  of  above  a  thousand  years ;  rooted  in 
language,  disguised  in  figures  of  speech,  fortified  by  logic, 
they  seem  almost  to  have  become  a  part  of  the  human  mind 
itself.  Those  who  first  spoke  of  sati.^faction  were  unconscious 
of  its  inconsistency  with  the  Divine  attributes,  just  as  many 
good  men  are  in  our  own  day ;  they  do  not  think  of  it,  or 
they  keep  their  minds  off  it.  And  one  cannot  but  fear 
whether  it  be  still  possible  so  to  teach  Ciirist  as  not  to  cast  a 
shadow  on  the  holiness  and  truth  of  God  ;  whether  the  wheat 
and  the  tares  have  not  grown  so  long  together,  that  their  hus- 
bandman, in  pulling  up  the  one,  may  be  plucking  up  the 
other  also.  Erroneous  as  are  many  mo<les  of  expression 
used  on  this  subject,  there  are  minds  to  whom  they  have 
become  insepanible  from  the  trutli  itself. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  as  commonly  understood,  is 
the  doctrine  of  the  sacrifice  or  satisfaction  of  Christ  for  the 
sins  of  men.  Tlierc  are  two  kin«ls  of  language  in  which  it 
is  slatiMl:  the  first  figiinitive,  derived  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  the  second  logical,  and  based  cliiefiy  on  distinctions  of 
the  schoolmen.     According  to  the  first  motlc  of  expression, 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  223 

tlie  atonement  of  Christ  is  regarded  as  a  sacrifice,  which 
stands  in  the  same  relation  to  the  world  in  general  as  the 
Jewish  sacrifices  did  to  the  individuals  who  offered  them. 
Mankind  were  under  a  curse,  and  he  redeemed  them,  just  as 
the  blood  of  bulls  or  of  goats  redeemed  the  first-born  de^ 
voted  to  God.  That  was  the  true  sacrifice  once  offered  on 
Mount  Calvary  for  the  sins  of  men ;  of  which  all  other  sacri- 
fices, since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  are  types  and  shadows, 
and  can  never  take  away  sin.  Wherever  the  words  blood,  or 
sprinkling,  or  atonement,  or  offering,  occur  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, these  truly  refer  to  Christ ;  wherever  uncleanness,  or 
impurity,  or  ceremonial  defilement  are  spoken  of,  these  truly 
refer  to  the  sins  of  men.  And,  as  nearly  all  these  things 
are  purged  with  blood,  so  the  sins  of  mankind  are  purged, 
and  covered,  and  veiled  in  the  blood  of  Christ. 

To  state  this  view  of  the  doctrine  at  length,  is  but  to 
translate  the  New  Testament  into  the  language  of  the  Old. 
Where  the  mind  is  predisposed  to  receive  it,  there  is  scarcely 
a  law,  or  custom,  or  rite  of  purification,  or  offering,  in  the 
Old  Testament,  which  may  not  be  transferred  to  the  Gospel. 
Christ  is  not  only  the  sacrificial  lamb,  but  the  paschal  "  lamb 
without  spot,"  the  seal  of  whose  blood  makes  the  wrath  of 
God  to  pass  over  the  people ;  he  is  Isaac  on  the  altar,  and 
also  the  ram  caught  in  the  thicket,  upon  whom  is  laid  the 
iniquity  of  man.  Neither  need  we  confine  ourselves  to  this 
circle  of  images.  Mankind  are  slaves,  and  Christ  ransoms 
them:  he  is  the  new  Lord,  who  has  condescended  to  buy 
them,  who  pays  the  price  for  them,  which  price  is  his  blood. 
He  is  devoted  and  accursed  for  them  ;  he  pays  the  penalty 
for  their  sins  ;  he  washes  them  in  his  blood ;  he  hides  them 
from  the  sight  of  God.  All  that  they  are,  he  is ;  all  that  he 
is,  they  become. 

Upon  this  figurative  or  typical  statement  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Atonement  is  raised  a  further  logical  one.  A  new  frame- 
work is  furnished  by  philosophy,  as  the  types  of  the  Old 
Testament  fade  and  become  distant ;  figures  of  speech  acquire 
a  sort  of  coherence  when  built  up  into  logical  statements, 


224  THE    DOCTRINE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT. 

they  at  length  cease  to  be  figurative,  and  are  repeated  as 
simple  facts.  Rhetoric  becomes  logic,  as  the  age  becomes 
logical  nither  than  rhetorical ;  and  arguments  and  reasonings 
take  the  place  of  sermons  and  apologies. 

The  logical  view  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  com- 
mences with  the  idea  of  a  satisfaction  to  be  made  for  the  sina 
of  men.  God  is  alienated  from  man ;  man  in  like  manner  is 
alienated  from  God.  The  fault  of  a  single  man  involves  his 
whole  posterity.  God  is  holy,  and  they  are  sinful ;  there  is 
no  middle  term  by  which  they  can  be  connected.  Mankind 
are  miserable  sinners,  the  best  of  whose  thoughts  are  but  evil 
continually  ;  who  have  a  corrupt  nature  which  can  never  lead 
to  good.  They  are  not  only  sinners,  but  guilty  before  God, 
and  in  due  course,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  to  suffer  pun- 
ishment for  their  sins.  Their  present  life  is  one  continued 
sin  ;  their  future  life  is  one  awful  punishment.  They  were 
free  to  choose  at  first,  and  they  chose  death,  and  God  does 
but  leave  them  to  the  natural  consequences. 

Were  we  to  stop  here,  every  honest  and  good  heart  would 
break  in  upon  these  sophistries,  and  dash  in  pieces  the  pre- 
tended freedom  and  the  i^nputed  sin  of  mankind,  as  well  as 
tlie  pretended  justification  of  the  Divine  attributes,  in  the 
statement  that  man  nocessai'ily  or  naturally  brought  everlast- 
ing punishment  on  himself.  No  slave's  mind  was  ever  re- 
duced so  low  as  to  justify  the  most  disproportionate  severity 
inflicted  on  himself;  neither  has  God  so  made  his  creatures 
that  they  will  lie  down  and  die,  even  beneath  the  hand  of  him 
who  gave  them  life.  But  although  Grod,  it  is  said,  might  in 
justice  have  stopped  hei*e,  there  is  another  side  of  this  doc- 
trine which  must  be  viewed  as  insepanible  from  it,  and  was 
known  from  the  beginning;  namely,  that  God  intended  to 
send  his  only  begotten  Son  for  the  redemption  of  mankind. 
God  was  always  willing  that  mankind  should  be  saved.  But 
it  was  just  that  they  should  suffer  the  penalty.  He  could  not 
»ive  tlx^n,  if  he  would.  He  Ml  like  a  judge  who  pitied  the 
criminal,  but  could  not  **in  foro  fonscicntiaj  **  acquit  him. 
Man  was' fearful  of  bis  doom,  and  God  willing  to  save;  but 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  i25 

the  least  particle  of  the  Divine  justice  must  not  be  impeached ; 
the  sentence  must  be  exacted  to  the  uttermost  farthing. 

At  this  point  is  introduced  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  The 
Son  takes  human  nature  upon  him,  and  dies  once  for  aU. 
The  Father,  before  angry,  and  ahenated,  and  averse  to  man, 
is  reconciled  to  him  through  the  Son.  His  justice  is  satisfied 
in  Christ ;  his  mercy  is  also  shown  in  Christ.  Tlie  impossi- 
bility has  become  possible  ;  the  necessity,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  for  the  condemnation  of  man,  has  been  done  away. 
Nor  can  it  be  urged  that  the  offences  are  the  sins  of  many  ; 
the  satisfaction  is  only  of  one.  For  the  satisfaction  is  of 
itself  infinite,  sufficient  not  for  this  world  only,  but  for  many 
more  ;  yea,  if  it  please  God  so  to  extend  it,  for  the  universe 
itself,  and  all  things  that  are,  have  been,  or  shall  be  in  it. 

And  this  scheme,  as  already  remarked,  must  not  be  con- 
sidered in  part  only,  but  as  a  whole.  When  God  created 
man,  "  sufficient  to  have  stood,  though  free  to  fall,"  he  fore- 
saw also  his  fjill,  redemption,  and  sanctification  in  a  single 
indivisible  instant.  Therefore  we  should  thankfully  accept 
the  whole  scheme,  and  not  stop  to  reason  on  a  part.  He  who 
condemned  us  is  the  same  as  he  who  redeemed  us  through 
Christ.  There  was  one  way  of  death  leading  onward  to 
eternal  punishment ;  there  was  another  way  of  life  leading 
to  salvation,  which  God,  to  our  infinite  gain  and  his  own  loss, 
was  pleased  to  take.  Neither  can  we  doubt,  if  we  may  say 
so  reverently,  that  God  himself  was  under  a  sort  of  constraint 
to  take  this  way,  and  no  other,  for  the  salvation  of  mankind. 
Had  it  been  otherwise,  he  would  have  surely  spared  his  only 
Son.  The  chasm  in  the  moral  government  of  the  world  could 
only  be  filled  up  by  the  satisfaction  of  Christ  for  the  sins  of 
all  mankind. 

Thus  far  the  parts  of  the  logical  structure  are  "  fitly 
joined  together " ;  but  the  main  question  is  yet  untouched ; 
"  In  what  did  this  satisfaction  consist  ? "  Was  it  that  God 
was  angry,  and  needed  to  be  propitiated  like  some  heathen 
deity  of  old  ?  Such  a  thought  refutes  itself  by  the  very  in- 
dignation which  it  calls  up  in  the  human  bosom.     Or  that,  as 


226        THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

**  he  looked  upon  the  face  of  his  Christ,"  pity  gradua/ly  took 
the  i)hvce  of  wrath,  and,  like  some  conqueror,  he  was  willing 
to  include  in  the  reversal  of  the  sentence,  not  only  the  hero, 
but  all  those  who  were  named  after  his  name  ?  Human  feel- 
ings again  revolt  at  the  idea  of  attributing  to  the  God  in 
whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being,  the  momentary 
clemency  of  a  tyrant.  Or  was  it  that  there  was  a  debt  due  to 
him,  which  must  be  paid  ere  its  consequences  could  be  done 
away  ?  But  even  "  a  man's  "  debt  may  be  freely  forgiven, 
nor  could  the  after  payment  change  our  sense  of  the  offend- 
er's wrong :  we  are  nrguing  about  what  is  moral  and  spiritual 
from  what  is  legjil,  or,  more  strictly,  from  a  shadow  and  fig- 
ment of  law.  Or  that  there  were  some  "  impossibilities  in 
the  nature  of  things,"  which  prevented  God  fi*om  doing  other 
than  he  did  ?  Thus  we  introduce  a  moral  principle  superior 
to  God,  just  as  in  the  Grecian  mythology  fate  and  necessity 
are  superior  to  Jupiter.  But  we  have  not  so  learned  the 
Divine  nature,  believing  that  God,  if  he  transcend  our  ideas 
of  morality,  can  yet  never  be  in  any  degree  contrary  to  them. 
Or,  again,  if  we  take  a  different  line  of  explanation,  it  may 
be  urged  that  the  atonement  is  not  a  satisfaction  of  Divine 
justice,  but  only  a  "  quasi  satisfaction,"  or  rather  an  exhibition 
of  Divine  justice  in  the  eyes  of  mankind  and  of  the  angels. 
Something  of  this  kind  may  be  supported  (accoixling  to  one 
interpretation  of  the  pjvssage)  by  the  words  of  the  third 
chapter  of  llomans,  "To  show  forth,  I  say,  at  this  time  his 
rigiiteousness  on  account  of  the  non-observimce  of  sins  that 
are  past " ;  where  the  reason  given  for  the  mmiifestation  of 
Christ  seems  to  be  the  justification  of  the  ways  of  God  to 
men.  Accortling  to  this  view,  it  is  regarded  as  shocking,  tliat 
God  himself  should  have  needed  any  atonement  or  satisfac- 
tion. But  yet  it  would  seem  as  if  Gotl's  horror  of  sin  were 
not  sufficiently  marked, —  that  man,  to  use  a  homely  phi*ase, 
was  let  off  loo  easily,  —  unless  there  were  some  great  and 
open  manifestation  that  God  was  really  on  the  side  of  truth 
and  of  right.  To  demonstmte  this  was  the  object  of  the 
death  of  Christ.    It  was  a' reality  in  one  sense,  that  is,  so  fiur 


THE   DOCTRINE    OP   THE    ATONEMENT.  227 

as  the  sufferings  were  real ;  an  appearance  in  another,  as  its 
true  import  related  to  mankind  and  the  world,  and  not  to 
God. 

If  this  scheme  avoids  the  difficulty  of  offering  an  unworthy 
satisfaction  to  God,  and  so  doing  violence  to  his  attributes,  we 
can  scarcely  free  it  from  the  equal  difficulty  of  interposing  a 
painful  fiction  between  God  and  man.  Was  the  spectacle 
real  which  was  presented  before  God  and  the  angels  on 
Mount  Calvary  ?  If  we  say  no,  then  we  can  neither  trust 
our  eyes  or  ears,  nor  the  promises  of  God,  nor  the  words  of 
Scripture.  If  the  greatest  fact  of  the  whole  is  an  illusion, 
why  not  all  else  ?  Tliat  the  chief  figure  in  the  scene  is  the 
Son  of  God,  only  makes  the  illusion  tlie  more  impossible.  Or 
if  we  say  that  it  was  all  real,  and  yet  that  its  great  object  was 
an  exhibition  to  men  and  angels,  to  what  a  wonderful  strait- 
ness  do  we  reduce  Divine  power,  which  can  only  show  forth 
its  justice  by  allowing  men  to  commit  in  itself  the  greatest  of 
human  crimes,  that  redeems  the  sin  of  Adam  by  the  murder 
of  Christ!  This  second  theory  has  no  advantage  over  the 
preceding,  except  that  which  the  more  shadowy  statement 
must  ever  have^  in  rendering  difficulties  themselves  more 
shadowy.  It  avoids  the  physical  illusion  of  the  old  heretics, 
and  introduces  a  moral  illusion  of  a  worse  kind. 

For  if  w e  substitute  for  "satisfaction"  "demonstration  or 
exhibition  ol  Divine  justice,"  we  are  not  better  off  than  in  the 
previous  attempt  to  explain  "satisfaction."  How  could  the 
sufferings  of  a  good  or  Divine  man  exhibit  the  righteousness 
of  God  ?  Rather  they  would  seem  to  indicate  his  indifference 
to  those  sufferings  in  permitting  them  ;  in  not  giving  his  Son 
"  ten  legions  of  angels "  to  overcome  his  enemies.  Is  it  to 
the  Roman  soldiers,  or  to  the  Jews,  or  to  the  disciples,  that 
this  exhibition  is  supposed  to  have  a  meaning;  or  to  the 
world  afterwards,  who,  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  are  ex- 
pected to  see  for  all  time  the  indignation  of  God  against  sin  ? 
When  the  doctrine  is  stated,  it  betrays  itself  For  how  could 
there  be  an  exhibition  of  Divine  justice  which  was  known  to 
be  a  fiction  ;  which,  if  it  were  true  and  real,  would  be  horrible 


228  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

and  revolting ;  which  not  only  exhibits  the  sins  of  the  guilty 
laid  upon  the  innocent,  but  alleviates  human  feelings  by  assur- 
ing U8  that  they  are  laid  upon  that  innocent  Being,  not  as  tho 
payment  of  a  penalty  or  satisfaction  of  the  Divine  nature,  but 
as  the  demonstration  of  Divine  justice  ?  The  doctrine  thus 
stated  is  the  suiface  or  shadow  of  the  preceding,  with  the  sub- 
stance or  foundation  cut  away.  It  removes  one  dilRculty, 
and,  in  removing,  it  raises  up  a  number  of  others. 

Whether,  then,  we  employ  the  term  "  sacrifice,"  or  "  satis- 
faction or  exhibition  of  Divine  justice,"  the  moment  we  pierce 
beneath  the  meaning  of  the  words,  theological  criticism  seems 
to  detect  something  which  is  irreconcilable  with  the  truth  and 
holiness  of  Go<l.  Gladly,  if  it  were  possible,  we  would  rest 
in  the  thing  signified,  and  know  only  "  Jesus  Christ,  and  him 
crucified."  But,  in  the  present  day,  we  can  no  longer  receive 
the  kingdom  of  God  as  little  children.  The  speculations  of 
theologians  have  insensibly  taken  possession  of  the  world ; 
the  abstractions  of  a  thousand  years  since  have  become  the 
household  words  of  our  own  age ;  and  before  we  can  build 
up,  we  have  also  to  clear  away. 

We  are  trespassing  on  holy  ground.  There  will  be  many 
who  say,  It  is  good  to  adore  in  silence  a  mystery  that  we  can 
never  understand.  But  there  are  "  idols  of  the  temple,"  as 
well  as  idols  of  the  market-place.  These  idols  consist  in 
human  reasonings  and  definitions  which  are  erected  into  arti- 
cles of  faith.  We  are  willing  to  adore  in  silence,  but  not  the. 
mvcntions  of  man.  The  controversialist  naturally  thinks,  that, 
in  assailing  the  doctrine  of  satisfaction  as  inconsistent  with 
truth  and  morality,  we  are  fighting  not  with  himself,  but  with 
Grod.  True  reverence  proceeds  by  a  ditferent  path;  it  is 
careful  to  sepamte  the  human  from  the  Divine;  figures  of 
speech  from  realities;  the  history  of  a  doctrine  from  its  truth; 
the  formulas  of  schoolmen  and  theologians  from  the  hope  of 
the  believer  in  life  and  death  :  it  is  fearful,  above  all  other 
things,  lest  it  cast  the  faintest  shadow  of  a  cloud  on  that 
which  is  the  central  light  of  all  religion  the  justice  and 
truth  of  God. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  229 

In  all  ages  of  the  world,  and  in  every  country  where  Chris- 
tianity is  preached,  the  Old  Testament  has  ever  been  taking 
the  place  of  the  New,  the  Law  of  the  Gospel,  the  outward 
and  temporal  of  the  spiritual  and  eternal.  Even  where  there 
has  been  no  sensible  image  to  which  mankind  might  bow,  they 
have  filled  up  the  desire  of  their  eyes  by  imagining  an  out- 
ward form  (of  doctrine  it  may  be)  instead  of  resting  in  higher 
and  unseen  objects  of  faith.  Ideas  must  be  given  through 
something ;  those  of  a  new  religion  ever  clothe  themselves  in 
the  old.  Tlie  mind  itself  readily  falls  back  on  the  "  weak 
and  beggarly  elements"  of  sense  and  imagination.  To  be 
told  that  Christ  performed  the  greatest  act  that  was  ever  done 
in  this  world,  does  not  seem  so  much  as  to  be  told  that  he  was 
the  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men.  All  history  combines  to 
strengthen  the  illusion  ;  the  institution  of  sacrifice  is  regarded 
as  part  of  a  Divine  design  in  the  education  of  the  world. 
We  cease  any  more  to  inquire  how  far  the  blood  of  bulls  or 
of  goats  can  be  a  real  or  adequate  representation  of  the  rela- 
tion in  which  Christ  stood  to  his  Father  and  mankind.  We 
delight  to  think  of  the  religions  of  all  nations  bearing  witness 
"  to  him  that  was  to  come." 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Apostles  were  Jews  ;  they 
were  so  before  their  conversion ;  they  remained  so  afterwards 
in  their  thoughts  and  language  ;  they  could  not  lay  aside  their 
first  nature,  or  divest  themselves  at  once  of  Jewish  modes  of 
expression.  Sacrifice  and  atonement  were  leading  ideas  of 
the  Jewish  dispensation  ;  without  shedding  of  blood,  there  wa* 
no  remission.  In  thinking  of  the  death  of  Clirist  and  the 
fulfilment  of  which  he  spoke,  it  was  natural  to  them  to  think 
of  him  as  a  "  sacrifice  "  and  "  atonement  "  for  sin.  To  him 
bear  all  the  prophets  witness,  as  well  as  the  types  of  the  law 
and  the  history  of  the  Jewish  people.  All  their  life  long  they 
had  been  sacrificing  and  living  in  the  commandments  cf  the 
Law  blameless.  What  a  striking  view  must  it  have  been 
to  their  minds,  that  their  rites  and  ceremonies'  were  not  in 
vain,  but  only  done  in  ignorance  of  their  true  design  and 
import ;  not  that  they  were  nothing,  but  that  there  was  mare 
20 


230  THE   DOCTRINE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

ill  them  than  the  chief  ])rlosts  and  riiarisces  could  even  con- 
ceive !  And  the  very  deadncss  of  tlicm  :><  pracuacd  hy  the 
Jews  in  general,  and  the  entire  passiiiLi  awnv  of  their  oriprinal 
meaning,  would  greatly  assist  their  new  ap[)lication.  There 
was  something  in  the  sacrifices  that  they  could  not  compre- 
hend, as  they  truly  felt  that  there  was  in  the  death  of  Christ 
also  far  more  than  they  could  understand,  and  they  interpreted 
the  one  by  the  other.  And  when  once  the  thought  was  sug- 
gested to  men's  minds,  at  every  opening  of  the  book  of  the 
Old  Testament  a  new  light  fell  upon  the  page  :  the  history  of 
Abniham,  the  settlement  in  the  promised  land,  the  lejist  de- 
tails of  the  Temple  and  the  Tabernacle,  were  written  for  their 
instruction. 

It  is  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  that  the  reflection  of 
the  New  Testament  in  the  Old  is  most  distinctly  brought 
before  us.  There  the  temple,  the  priest,  the  sacrifices,  the 
altar,  the  persons,  of  Jewish  histoiy  are  the  figures  of  Christ 
and  the  Church.  In  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  it  is  the  i*arity 
rather  than  the  frequency  of  such  images  which  is  striking. 
It  is  the  opposition  and  not  the  identification  of  the  Law  and 
the  Gospel  which  is  the  leading  thought  of  his  mind.  But  in 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  they  are  iused  in  one ;  the  New 
Testament  is  hidden  in  the  Old,  the  Old  revealed  in  the  New. 
And  from  this  source,  and  not  from  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul, 
the  language  of  which  we  are  speaking  has  pju<sed  into  the 
theology  of  modern  times.  While  few  })ersons,  ccmpanitively 
speaking,  have  ever  understood  the  relation  of  the  i^aw  and 
faith  in  the  Epistles  to  the  Romans  and  Galatians,  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  is  familiar  to  all. 

We  cannot  avoid  asking  ourselves  the  question,  how  far 
these  notions  of  sacrifice  or  atonement  can  have  the  same 
meaning  for  us  that  they  h:ul  for  the  first  believers.  We 
may  use  the  words  correctly ;  every  one  may  imagine  them- 
selves to  understand  them ;  but  are  we  not  mistaking  our 
familiarity  with  the  sound  for  a  realization  of  the  thing  signi- 
fied? The  Apostles  lived  amid  the  temple  sacrifices;  the 
smoke  of  their  ofi'erings,  even  in  the  city  of  Jeiusalem  under 


THE   DOCTRTNiC    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  231 

its  Roman  governor,  as  of  old  in  the  wilderness,  still  went  up 
before  the  Lord ;  the  carcasses  of  dead  animals  strewed  the 
courts  of  the  temple.  It  would  be  a  sight  scarcely  tolerable 
to  us  ;  neither,  if  at  the  present  moment  we  could  witness  it 
in  remote  parts  of  the  world,  could  we  bear  to  think  of  what 
we  saw  as  typical  of  the  Gospel.  Nor,  indeed,  do  we  think 
of  what  we  are  saying  when  we  speak  of  Christ  offered  for 
the  sins  of  men  ;  the  image  is  softened  by  distance,  and  has 
lost  its  original  associations.  "We  repeat  it  as  a  sacred  word, 
hallowed  by  the  usage  of  Scripture,  and  ennobled  by  its 
metaphorical  application.  The  death  of  Christ  is  not  a  sacri- 
fice in  the  Levitical  sense  ;  but  what  we  mean  by  the  word 
sacrijice,  is  the  death  of  Christ. 

The  notion  of  sacrifice  gained  a  new  foundation  in  the 
after  history  of  the  Church  and  the  world.  More  and  more, 
as  the  Christian  Church  became  a  kingdom  and  a  hierarchy, 
did  it  see  the  likeness  of  itself  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish 
people.  The  temple  which  had  been  pulled  down  was  again 
built  up ;  the  spirit  of  the  old  dispensation  revived  in  the 
new ;  there  was  a  priest  as  well  as  a  sacrifice ;  a  Church 
without  which  there  was  no  salvation,  as  much  separated  from 
the  world  as  the  Jews  from  the  heathen  of  old.  What  was  a 
shadow  to  St.  Paul  was  becoming  a  reality  to  the  Nicene,  and 
had  actually  become  one  to  the  Medieeval,  Church.  The 
body  and  blood  of  Christ  was  not  only  received  spiritually  in 
the  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  but  literally  offered 
again  and  again  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  fs  formerly  by 
the  Jewish,  so  now  by  the  Christian  priest.  A  priesthood 
and  a  sacrifice  naturally  implied  each  other.  As  Christ  in  a 
figure  bore  the  person  of  the  high-jjriest  entering  once  into 
the  holy  place,  so  the  priest  in  turn  bore  the  person  of  Christ. 
And  after  the  notion  of  the  priesthood  passed  away  in  the 
Reformed  Churches,  that  of  the  atonement  and  sacrifice, 
which  during  so  many  centuries  had  been  supported  by  it, 
was  still  retained,  because  it  seemed  to  rest  on  a  Scriptural 
foundation.  The  "  antithesis  "  of  the  Reformation  was  not 
between  the  Gospel  as  without  sacrifices,  and  Romanism  as 


232       THE  DOCTRINE  OP  THE  ATONEMENT. 

retaining  sacrifices,  or  between  the  law  as  having  a  mediator, 
and  the  promise  as  a  more  "  open  way " ;  but  between  the 
Gospel  as  having  one  mediator,  and  a  sacrifice  once  offered, 
and  tlie  Roman  Church  with  many  priests,  and  the  ever 
recurring  sacrifice  of  the  Mass. 

An  additional  support  for  the  doctrine  of  a  sacrifice  or 
satisfaction  is  found  in  the  heathen  sacrifices,  which,  like  the 
Jewish,  are  viewed  only  by  the  light  of  their  Christian  fulfil- 
ment. All  the  religions  of  the  world,  it  has  been  said,  agreo. 
in  enjoining  sacrifices.  They  seem  to  conspire  together  in 
bearing  witness  to  Him  that  was  to  come.  Can  we  account 
for  this  common  witness,  except  upon  the  supposition  of  a 
primeval  revehition  ?  Certainly,  it  may  be  argued  that  we 
cannot  afiirm  the  Divine  origin  and  the  typical  meaning  of 
the  Jewisli  sacrifices,  without  admitting  the  same  with  respect 
to  heathen  sacrifices  also.  That  could  hardly  be  a  sign  Di- 
vinely appointed  for  the  Jewish  people,  which,  in  almost  eveiy 
nation  under  heaven,  the  light  of  human  reason  discovered 
for  itself.  Was  it,  then,  a  Divine  revelation  to  both  or  nei- 
ther? If  we  say,  to  both,  we  are  compelled  to  admit,  in 
reference  to  the  heatl^en  world,  that  the  fiirthcr  we  trace 
backward  the  indications  of  old  language  or  of  mythology,  th»» 
slighter  are  the  vestiges  of  a  promised  revelation.  We  can- 
not, therefore,  assume  one  in  the  particular  instance  of  the 
institution  of  sacrifices.  If  we  sjiy,  to  neither,  we  seem  to 
reduce  the  Jewish  dispensation  to  the  level  of  the  heathen ; 
it  is  "the  first  of  the  Ethnic  religions,**  as  Goethe  said, 
**  but  still  Ethnic."  We  may  escape  from  this  alternative  by 
pointing  out  the  superior  monility  of  the  Old  Testament; 
its  i*cvelation  of  the  true  God ;  its  anticipation  of  truths 
utterly  unknown  to  other  nations  in  the  age  of  the  world  in 
which  the  Law  was  given:  still  we  cannot  help  admitting 
a  connection  of  some  kind  between  the  heathen  and  Jewish 
custom  of  sacrifices. 

But  not  to  pursue  the  alternative  here  suggested,  we  may 
go  on  to  ask  the  further  question,  **  What  was  the  inward 
meaning  <uuong  the  heathen  of  that  outward  rite  which  they 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  233 

termed  sacrifice  ?  "  Did  they,  as  a  modern  writer  has  ex- 
pressed it,  intend  to  im{)ly,  by  this  act  of  sacrificing  an  ani- 
mal, that  they  acknowledged  the  claim  of  a  superior  power 
over  their  own  life  ?  Did  they  mean  to  say,  "  As  I  now 
devote  to  thee  this  victim,  O  Apollo,  Juno,  Jupiter,  so  do  I 
acknowledge  myself  justly  devoted  to  thee  "  ?  They  meant 
(1.)  that  the  gods,  who  were  like  men,  should  feast  like  men; 
this  is  the  prevailing  character  of  the  sacrifices  in  Homer 
They  meant  (2.)  in  the  East  something  unintelligible  to  us, 
but  closely  connected  with  the  deification  of  animal  life  ;  from 
the  blood  of  the  animal  a  power  seemed  to  flow  forth  upon 
the  earth,  which  by  a  sort  of  magic  communicated  itself  to 
the  offerer.  They  meant  (3.)  to  supply  a  want,  and,  in  later 
timiss,  to  perform  an  ancient  rite,  which  still  subsisted,  though 
the  meaning  of  it  had  long  passed  away ;  if,  indeed,  it  could 
have  been  said  to  express  anything  except  the  vague  and  un- 
defined awe  of  the  first  sons  of  men  towards  the  mysterious 
beings  by  whom  they  were  surrounded.  They  meant  (4.) 
the  abolition  of  ceremonial  pollution,  the  purification  of  guilt 
like  that  of  the  Alcmajonidae  in  a  panic-stricken  nation. 
They  meant  to  do  an  act,  which  varied  with  the  character  of 
the  people  or  the  state  of  religion,  cheerful  or  sad,  of  obli- 
gation or  free  will ;  differing  in  Greece  and  the  East,  and  to 
the  Greek  in  the  age  of  Pericles  and  in  that  of  Homer, 
which  might  be  nothing  more  than  Fetichism,  which  might 
comprehend  also  the  devotion  of  the  Decii.  They  meant, 
however,  nothing  which  throws  any  light  on  the  mystery  of 
the  death  of  Christ.  Human  sacrifices,  which  are  in  outward 
act  the  nearest,  are  in  spirit  the  farthest  removed  from  it. 

Heathen  and  Jewish  sacrifices  rather  show  us  what  the 
sacrifice  was  not,  than  what  it  was.  They  are  the  dim, 
vague,  rude,  (may  we  not  say  ?)  almost  barbarous  expression 
of  that  want  in  human  nature  which  has  received  satisfaction 
in  Him  only.  Men  are  afraid  of  something;  they  wish  to 
give  away  something ;  they  feel  themselves  bound  by  some- 
thing ;  the  fear  is  done  away,  the  gift  offered,  the  obligation 
fulfilled,  in  Christ.  Such  fears  and  desiref  can  no  more  oc- 
20* 


284        THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

cupy  their  souls  ;  they  are  free  to  lead  a  better  life ;  they  are 
at  the  end  of  the  old  world,  and  at  the  beginning  of  a  ne\T 
one. 

Nature  and  Scripture  and  the  still  small  voice  of  Christian 
feeling  give  a  simpler  and  a  truer  explanation  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  atonement  than  theories  of  satisfaction  or  the  history 
of  sacrifice,  —  an  explanation  that  does  not  shift  with  the 
metaphysical  schools  of  the  age,  which  is  for  the  heart  rather 
the  head.  Nature  bids  us  look  at  the  misery  of  the  whole 
creation  groaning  and  travailing  together  until  now ;  Christian 
feeling  requires  only  that  we  should  cast  all  upon  Christ, 
whose  work  the  Scripture  sets  forth  under  many  diiferent 
figures,  lest  we  should  rest  in  one  only.  This  variety  is  an 
indication  of  the  simplicity  with  which  we  are  to  learn  Christ. 
The  Jewish  sacrifices  had  many  meanings  and  associations. 
Nor  are  these  the  only  types  under  which  the  Mediator  of  the 
new  covenant  is  set  forth  to  us  in  Scripture.  He  is  the  sin- 
offering,  and  the  paschal  lamb,  and  the  priest,  and  the  temple, 
all  in  one.  Out  of  all  these,  why  are  we  to  select  one  to  be 
the  foundation  of  our  theologicfil  edifice  ?  As  figures,  we 
may  still  use  them.  But  the  writings  of  the  Apostle  supply 
another  kind  of  language  which  is  not  figurative,  and  which 
underlies  them  all ;  which  is  far  more  really  present  and 
lively  to  us  than  the  conception  of  a  sacrifice,  and  which 
remains  within  the  limits  of  our  spiritual  consciousness,  in- 
stead of  passing  beyond  them.  That  is  the  spirit  of  which 
the  other  is  the  letter ;  the  substance  of  which  it  is  the  form 
and  shadow. 

I.  Everywhere  St.  Paul  speaks  of  the  Christian  as  one 
with  Christ.  This  union  with  him  is  a  union,  not  in  his  death 
merely,  but  in  all  the  stages  of  his  existence;  living  with 
him,  suffering  with  him,  dying  with  him,  cnicified  with  him, 
buried  with  him,  rising  ngjiin  with  him,  renewed  in  his  image, 
glorified  together  witli  him,  —  these  are  the  expressions  by 
which  this  union  is  denoted.  There  is  enough  Iiere  for  faith 
to  feed  on,  without  sullying  the  mirror  of  God's  justice  or 
OTerclouding  his  truth :  peace  and  consolation  enough  without 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT.  235 

raising  a  suspicion  which  secretly  destroys  peace.  It  is  a 
great  thing  to  set  Christ  always  before  us  as  an  example ; 
and  he  who  does  so  is  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
But  that  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks  is  not  merely  the 
example  of  Christ,  but  communion  with  him ;  the  indwelling 
of  Christ  in  our  hearts,  the  conscious  recognition  that  he  is 
the  will  and  the  power  within  us  to  do  rightly. 

II.  But  we  need  also  to  pass  out  of  ourselves,  and  find 
an  assurance  which  is  independent  of  the  livehness  or  in- 
tensity of  our  own  consciousness.  We  wish  to  know  that 
when  we  close  our  eyes  the  hght  is  there  ;  that  when  the 
grave  covers  us,  there  is  a  God  to  whom  we  still  live.  That 
assurance  is  given  us  by  the  life  and  death  of  Christ.  That 
perfect  harmony  of  nature,  that  absolute  self-renunciation, 
that  pure  love,  that  entire  resignation,  continued  through 
life  and  ending  in  death,  are  facts,  independent  of  our  feel- 
ings, which  remain  as  they  were,  whether  we  acknowledge 
them  or  not.  Not  the  sacrifice,  nor  the  satisfaction,  nor  the 
ransom,  but  the  greatest  moral  act  ever  done  in  this  world, 
—  the  act,  too,  of  one  in  our  likeness,  —  is  the  assurance  to 
us  that  God  in  Christ  is  reconciled  to  the  world. 

III.  It  is  a  true  and  Christian  feeling,  that,  after  we  have 
done  all,  we  are  unprofitable  servants.  Even  the  best  of  us 
well  know  that  the  less  we  think  of  our  own  lives  the  better. 
Our  actions  will  not  bear  taking  to  pieces,  —  the  garment 
of  self  is  a  ragged  and  tattered  patchwork.  If  an  eminent 
servant  of  God  could  rise  from  the  grave  and  read  the  narra- 
tive of  his  own  hfe,  written  by  another,  he  would  feel  pain 
at  the  recital  of  his  virtues.  "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord !  not 
unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  be  the  praise."  And  yet  this 
most  true  sense  of  man's  unprofitableness  is  accompanied 
also  by  an  unshaken  confidence  in  the  mercy  of  God.  No 
account  can  be  given  of  this  confidence,  which  is  quite  un- 
like the  confidence  we  feel  in  the  honesty,  or  good  faith,  or 
character  of  one  of  our  fellow-men.  There  are  rules  for 
judging  of  this  too  ;  but  they  are  different  in  kind  from  those 
by  which  we  judge,  or  ought  to  judge,  of  ourselves  in  rela- 


286        THE  DOCTRINE  OP  THE  ATONEMENT. 

tion  to  God.  He  who  has  this  confidence  finds  the  reasons 
of  it  desert  him  the  moment  he  begins  to  consider  tliem.  He 
is  two  persons  in  one,  hoping  against  hope,  if  so  be  that  God 
will  be  merciful ;  and  all  the  time  not  the  less  assured  of  his 
mercy.  Philosophy,  rather  than  faith,  going  beyond  this 
double  consciousness,  seeks  by  a  theory  of  satisfaction  to 
harmonize  the  discordant  elements.  "  God  is  alienated  in 
himself,  but  reconciled  in  Christ ;  man  is  evil  in  himself,  but 
holy  in  Christ.**  Such  statements  are  neither  philosophy  nor 
faith ;  they  do  but  afford  a  transient  resting-place  to  the  mind, 
which  is  satisfied  with  an  answer  to  its  peculiar  difficulty, 
however  narrowing  it  may  be  to  its  view  of  "  the  ways  of 
Grod  to  man." 

IV.  There  is  more  in  the  life  and  death  of  Christ  than  we 
pretend  to  fathom.  Definite  statements  respecting  the  rela- 
tion of  Christ  either  to  God  or  man  are  but  human  figures 
transferred  to  a  subject  which  is  beyond  speech  and  thought 
There  may  seem  to  be  a  kind  of  feebleness  in  falling  back  on 
mystery,  when  the  traditional  language  of  ages  is  so  clear  and 
explicit.  But  mystery  is  the  nearest  approach  that  we  can 
make  to  the  truth :  only  by  indefiniteness  can  we  avoid  put- 
ting words  in  the  place  of  things.  We  know  nothing  of  the 
objective  act  on  God's  part,  by  which  he  reconciled  the  world 
to  himself,  the  very  description  of  it  as  an  act  being  only  a 
figure  of  speech ;  and  we  seem  to  know  that  we  never  can 
know  anything.  While  clinging  to  the  ground  of  fact,  we 
feel  also  that  there  is  more  in  that  fact  than  we  see  or  under- 
stand. This  is  not  a  ground  of  fear,  but  of  hope,  —  not  of 
uncertainty,  but  of  peace.  There  is  hope  and  peace  in  what 
we  see :  yet  more  as  we  believe  in  possibilities  of  which  wo 
are  ignorant. 

We  can  live  and  die  in  the  language  of  St.  Paul  and  St. 
John,  without  fear  for  ourselves  or  dishonor  to  the  name  of 
Christ.  We  need  not  change  a  wortl  that  they  use,  or  add  on 
a  bingle  consequence  to  their  statement  of  the  truth.  There 
is  nothing  there  repugnant  to  our  moral  sense.  There  are 
others  to  whom  tradition  and  devotional  use  may  liuve  made 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT.  237 

another  kind  of  language  familiar,  who  employ  it  by  a  sort 
of  happy  inconsistency,  without  perceiving  the  contradiction 
which  it  involves  to  the  attributes  of  God.  Neither  let  them 
condemn  us,  neither  let  us  condemn  them.  There  is  enough 
in  what  has  been  said,  and  in  the  very  nature  of  the  subject 
itself,  to  make  us  tolerant  of  each  other.  It  is  a  natural, 
though  hardly  excusable  weakness,  to  clothe  with  pecuUar 
awe  and  sacredness  that  which  is  really  of  human  invention ; 
to  be  zealous  in  defence  of  those  points  which  we  instinc 
tively  know  to  be  least  capable  of  standing  the  test  of  theo 
logical  criticism. 


ON  EIGHTEOUSNESS  BY   FAITH. 


By  benjamin  JOWETT. 


No  doctrine  in  later  times  has  been  looked  at  so  exclu- 
sit^ely  through  the  glass  of  controversy  as  that  of  justification. 
From  being  the  simplest  it  has"  become  the  most  difficult ;  the 
language  of  the  heart  has  lost  itself  in  a  logical  tangle.  Dif- 
ferences have  been  drawn  out  as  far  as  possible,  and  then 
taken  back  and  reconciled.  The  extreme  of  one  view  has 
produced  a  reaction  in  favor  of  the  other.  Many  senses  have 
been  attributed  to  the  same  words,  and  simple  statements 
carried  out  on  both  sides  into  endless  conclusions.  New  for- 
mulas of  conciliation  have  been  put  in  the  place  of  old- 
established  phrases,  and  have  soon  died  away,  because  they 
had  no  root  in  language  or  in  the  common  sense  or  feeling  of 
mankind.  The  difficulty  of  the  subject  has  been  increased  by 
the  diffisrent  degrees  of  importance  attached  to  it :  while  to 
some  it  is  an  articulus  stantis  aut  cadentia  ecclesice,  others 
have  never  been  able  to  see  in  it  more  than  a  verbal  dis- 
pute. 

The  abstract  as  well  as  controversial  form  of  the  doctrine 
of  righteousness  by  faith  has  arisen  out  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  age  in  which  it  seemed  to  revive.  Men  felt  at  the 
Reformation  the  need  of  a  spiritual  religion,  and  could  no 
longer  endure  the  yoke  which  had  been  put  upon  their  fathers. 
The  heart  turned  inwards  upon  itself  to  commune  alone  with 
God.     But  when  the  need  was  supplied,  and  those  who  had 


240  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH. 

felt  it  could  no  longer  remain  in  tlie  stillness  of  the  closet,  but 
formed  themselves  into  a  Church  and  an  army,  going  forth  to 
war  against  principalities  and  powers  and  the  wisdom  of  this 
world,  they  found  no  natural  expression  of  their  belief;  they 
had  to  borrow  the  weapons  of  their  enemies  before  they  could 
take  up  a  position  and  fortify  their  camp. 

In  other  words,  the  Scholastic  Logic  had  been  for  six  cen- 
turies previous  the  great  instiniment  of  training  the  human 
mind  ;  it  hud  grown  up  with  it,  and  become  a  part  of  it. 
Neither  would  it  have  been  more  possible  for  the  Reformers 
to  have  laid  it  aside  than  to  have  laid  aside  the  use  of  lan- 
guage itself  Around  theology  it  lingers  still,  seeming  reluc- 
tant to  quit  a  territory  which  is  peculiarly  its  own.  No 
science  has  hitherto  fallen  so  completely  under  its  i)ower ; 
no  other  is  equally  unwilling  to  ask  the  meaning  of  terms ; 
none  has  been  so  fertile  in  reasonings  and  consequences. 
The  change  of  which  Lord  Bacon  was  the  herald,  has  luii-dly 
yet  reached  it ;  much  less  could  the  Reformation  have  antici- 
pated the  New  Philosophy. 

The  whole  mental  structure  of  that  time  rendered  it  neces- 
sary that  the  Reformers,  no  less  than  their  opponents,  should 
resort  to  the  scholastic  methods  of  argument.  The  difference 
between  the  two  parties  did  not  lie  here.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
said  with  truth  that  the  Reformers  were  even  more  schoolmen 
than  their  opponents,  because  they  dealt  more  with  abstract 
ideas,  and  were  more  concentrated  on  a  single  topic.  The 
whole  of  Luther's  teaching  was  summed  up  in  a  single  arti- 
cle, "  Justification  by  Faith."  That  was  to  him  the  Scriptuml 
expression  of  a  Spiritual  religion.  But  this,  according  to  the 
manner  of  that  time,  could  not  be  lefl  in  the  simple  language 
of  St.  Paul,  but  neede<l  to  be  guarded  by  the  strictest  defi- 
nitions first,  and  was  then  liable  to  be  dniwn  out  into  endless 
conclusions. 

And  yet,  why  was  this?  "Why  not  repeat,  with  a  slight 
alteration  of  the  words  rather  than  the  meaning  of  the  Apos- 
tle, Neitlier  justification  by  faith  nor  justification  by  works, 
but  "a  new  creature  "  ?     Was  there  not  yet  "a  more  excel- 


ON    RIGHTEOU&xVESS    BY   FAITH.  241 

lent  way  "  to  oppose  things  to  words,  —  the  life,  and  spirit, 
and  freedom  of  the  Gospel,  to  the  deadness,  and  powerless- 
ness,  and  slavery  of  the  Eoman  Church?  So  it  seems 
natural  to  us  to  reason,  looking  back  after  an  interval  of  three 
centuries  on  the  weary  struggle ;  so  absorbing  to  those  who 
took  part  in  it  once,  so  distant  now  either  to  us  or  them.  But 
so  it  could  not  be.  The  temper  of  the  times,  and  the  educa- 
tion of  the  Reformers  themselves,  made  it  necessary  that  one 
dogmatic  system  should  be  met  by  another.  The  scholastic 
divinity  had  become  a  charmed  circle,  and  no  man  could 
venture  out  of  it,  though  he  might  oppose  or  respond  with- 
in it. 

And  thus  justification  by  faith,  and  justification  by  works, 
became  the  watchwords  of  two  parties.  We  may  imagine 
ourselves  at  that  point  in  the  controversy  when  the  Pelagian 
dispute  had  been  long  since  hushed,  and  that  respecting  Pre- 
destination had  not  yet  begun  ;  when  men  were  not  differing 
about  original  sin,  and  had  not  begun  to  differ  about  the 
Divine  decrees.  What  Luther  sought  for  was  to  find  a  for- 
mula which  expressed  most  fully  the  entire,  unreserved,  im- 
mediate dependence  of  the  believer  on  Christ.  What  the  Cath- 
olic sought  for  was  so  to  modify  this  formula  as  not  to  throw 
dishonor  on  the  Church  by  making  religion  a  merely  personal 
or  individual  matter ;  or  on  the  lives  of  holy  men  of  old,  who 
had  wrought  out  their  salvation  by  asceticism ;  or  endanger 
morality  by  appearing  to  undervalue  good  works.  It  was 
agreed  by  all,  that  men  are  saved  through  Christ ;  —  not  of 
themselves,  but  of  the  grace  of  Gk)d,  was  equally  agreed 
since  the  condemnation  of  Pelagius  ;  —  that  faith  and  works 
imply  each  other,  was  not  disputed  by  either.  A  narrow 
space  is  left  for  the  combat,  which  has  to  be  carried  on  within 
the  outworks  of  an  earlier  creed,  in  which,  nevertheless,  the 
greatest  subtlety  of  human  thought  and  the  greatest  differ- 
ences of  human  character  admit  of  being  displayed. 

On  this  narrow  ground  the  first  question  that  naturally 
arises  is,  how  faith  is  to  be  defined.  Is  it  to  include  love  and 
holiness,  or  to  be  separated  from  them  ^  If  the  former,  it 
21 


242  ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH. 

seems  to  lose  its  apprehensive,  dependent  nature,  and  to  b6 
8Ciii*cely  distinguishable  from  works ;  if  the  latter,  there  is  a 
logical  subtlety  in  the  statement,  which,  although  made  by 
Luther,  could  scarcely  be  retained  even  by  his  immediate 
followers,  much  less  by  the  common  sense  of  mankind. 
Again,  is  it  an  act  or  a  state  ?  are  we  to  figure  it  as  a  point, 
or  as  a  line  ?  Is  the  whole  of  our  spiritual  life  anticipated  in 
the  beginning,  or  may  faith  no  less  than  works,  justification 
equally  with  sanctification,  be  conceived  of  as  going  on  to 
perfection  ?  Is  justification  in  God  or  man  an  objective  act 
of  Divine  mercy,  or  a  subjective  state  of  which  the  believer 
is  conscious  in  himself?  Is  the  righteousness  imparted  by  it 
imputed  or  inherent,  an  attribute  of  the  merits  of  Christ,  or 
a  renewal  of  the  human  heart  itself?  What  is  the  test  of 
a  true  faith  ?  And  is  it  possible  for  those  who  are  possessed 
of  it  to  fall  away  ?  How  can  we  exclude  the  doctrine  of 
human  merit  consistently  with  Divine  justice  ?  How  do  we 
account  for  the  fact  that  some  have  this  faith,  while  others 
are  destitute  of  it,  and  this  apparently  independent  of  their 
moral  state  ?  If  faith  comes  by  grace,  is  it  imparted  to  few 
or  to  all  ?  And  in  what  relation  does  the  whole  doctrine 
stand  to  Predestinarianism  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  Cath- 
olic or  Sacramental  theory  on  the  other  ? 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  most  obvious  questions  to  which  this 
controversy  has  given  birth.  To  which  some  obsolete  differ- 
ences of  an  earlier  date  might  be  added ;  such  as  the  theory 
of  congruity  and  condignity,  in  which  an  attempt  was  made 
to  tninsfer  the  analogy  of  Christianity  to  heathenism,  and  to 
look  upon  the  doer  of  good  works  before  justification  as  a 
shadow  of  the  perfected  believer.  Neither  must  we  omit  to 
observe  that,  iu»  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  had  a 
close  connection  with  the  Pelagian  controvei*sy,  carrying  the 
decision  of  the  Church  a  step  farther,  in  not  only  making 
Divine  Grace  the  source  of  human  action,  but  in  i*equiring 
the  consciousness  of  it  as  well  in  the  believer  himself:  so  also 
it  put  forth  its  roots  in  another  direction,  attaching  itself  to  An- 
^elm  as  well  as  Augustine,  and  comprehending  the  idcifof  satid- 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNF^o  BY   FAITH.  243 

faction  ;  not  now,  as  formerly,  of  Christ  offered  in  the  sacrifice 
of  the  mass,  but  of  one  sacrifice,  once  offered  for  the  sins  of 
men,  whether  considered  as  an  expiation  by  suffering,  or  im- 
plying only  a  reconciliation  between  God  and  man,  or  a  mere 
manifestation  of  the  righteousness  of  God. 

Such  is  the  whole  question,  striking  deep,  and  spreading 
far  and  wide  with  its  offshoots.  It  is  not  our  intention  to 
enter  on  the  investigation  of  all  these  subjects,  many  of  which 
belong  to  the  history  of  the  Church,  but  have  no  real  bearing 
on  the  interpretation  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  and  a  compara- 
tively slight  one  on  our  own  life  and  practice.  Our  inquiry 
will  embrace  two  heads  :  (1.)  What  did  St.  Paul  mean  by 
the  expression  "  righteousness  of  faith,"  in  that  age  ere  con- 
troversies about  his  meaning  arose ;  and  (2.)  What  do  we 
mean  by  it,  now  that  such  controversies  have  died  away,  and 
the  interest  in  them  is  retained  only  by  the  theological  stu- 
dent, and  the  Church  and  the  world  are  changed,  and  there  is 
no  more  question  of  Jew  or  Gentile,  circumcision  or  uncir- 
cumcision,  and  we  do  not  become  Christians,  but  are  so  from 
our  birth.  Many  volumes  are  not  required  to  explain  the 
meaning  of  the  Apostle  ;  nor  can  the  words  of  eternal  Hfe 
be  other  than  few  and  simple  to  ourselves. 

There  is  one  interpretation  of  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul 
which  is  necessarily  in  some  degree  false ;  that  is,  the  inter- 
pretation put  upon  them  by  later  controversy.  It  seems  to 
be  legitimately  derived  from  the  text ;  and  it  is  really  intro- 
duced into  it.  Our  minds  are  filled  with  a  particular  circle 
of  ideas,  and  we  catch  at  any  stray  verse  and  make  it  the 
centre  of  our  previous  ideas.  The  Scripture  is  never  looked 
upon  as  a  whole,  but  broken  into  fragments,  and  each  frag- 
ment made  the  corner  of  a  new  spiritual  edifice.  Words 
seem  to  be  the  same,  but  the  things  signified  by  them  are 
different.  Luther  and  St.  Paul  use  the  same  term,  "  justified 
by  faith  "  ;  and  the  strength  of  the  Reformer's  words  is  the 
authority  of  St.  Paul.  Yet,  observe  how  far  this  agreement 
is  one  of  words  :  how  far  of  things.  For  Luther  is  speaking 
solely  cf  individuals,  St.  Paul  also  of  nations  ;  Luther  of  faith 


244  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS   BY   FA.ITH. 

absolutely,  St.  Paul  of  faith  as  relative  to  the  law.  With  St 
Paul  faith  is  the  symlwl  of  the  universality  of  the  Gospel. 
Luther  entirely  excludes  this  or  any  analogous  point  of  view. 
In  St.  Paul  there  is  no  opposition  of  faith  and  love ;  nor  does 
he  further  determine  righteousness  by  faith  as  meaning  a  faith 
in  the  blood  or  even  in  the  death  of  Christ ;  nor  does  he  sup- 
pose consciousness  or  assurance  in  the  person  justified.  But 
all  these  are  prominent  features  of  the  Lutheran  doctrine. 
Once  more ;  the  faith  of  St.  Paul  has  refereic*  to  the  evil  of 
the  world  of  sight ;  which  was  soon  to  vanish  away,  that  the 
world  in  which  faith  walks  might  be  revealed ;  but  no  such 
allusion  is  implied  in  the  language  of  the  Reformer.  Lastly ; 
the  change  in  the  use  of  the  substantive  "  righteousness "  to 
*' justification  "  is  of  itself  the  indication  of  a  wide  difference 
between  St.  Paul  and  Luther;  and  not  without  significance, 
as  showing  the  direction  which  this  diffiirence  has  taken. 

These  contrasts  make  us  feel  that  St.  Paul  can  only  be 
interpreted  by  himself,  and  not  from  the  writings  even  of  one 
who  had  so  much  in  common  with  him  as  Luther,  much  less 
from  the  treatises  of  theologians  of  a  later  date.  It  is  the 
spirit  of  St.  Paul  which  Luther  represent?,  not  the  meaning 
of  his  words ;  nor  is  there  wanting  a  link  of  human  feeling 
which  makes  them  kin.  Without  bringing  down  one  to  the 
level  of  the'  other,  we  can  imagine  St,  Paul  returning  that 
singular  affection,  almost  like  an  attachment,  to  a  living  friend, 
which  the  great  Reformer  felt  towards  the  Apostle.  But  this 
degree  of  personal  attachment  or  resemblance  in  no  way 
lessens  the  necessary  difference  between  the  preaching  of 
Luther  and  of  St,  Paul,  which  lay  partly  in  their  individual 
character,  but  chiefly  in  the  difierent  circumstances  and  modes 
of  thought  of  their  respective  ages.  At  the  Reformation  we 
are  at  anotlier  stage  of  the  human  mind,  in  wliich  system  and 
logic  and  the  abstnictioos  of  Aristotle  seem  to  have  a  kind 
of  necessary  force,  when  words  have  so  completely  taken  the 
place  of  tilings,  that  the  minutest  distinctions  appear  to  have 
an  intrinsic  value. 

It  has  been  said  (and  the  remark  admits  of  a  peculiar 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH.  245 

application  to  theology)  that  few  persons  know  sufficient  of 
things  to  be  able  to  say  whether  disputes  are  merely  verbal 
or  not.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that, 
whatever  accidental  advantage  theology  may  derive  from 
system  and  definition,  mei;e  accurate  statements  can  never 
form  the  substance  of  our  belief.  No  one  doubts  that  Chris- 
tianity could  be  in  the  fullest  sense  taught  to  a  child  or  a 
savage,  without  any  mention  of  justification  or  satisfaction  or 
predestination.  Why  should  we  not  receive  the  Gospel  as 
little  children  ?  Wliy  adopt  abstractions  which  are  so  subtle 
in  their  meaning  as  to  be  in  the  greatest  danger  in  their 
translation  from  one  language  to  another  ?  which  are  always 
running  into  consequences  inconsistent  with  our  moral  nature, 
and  the  knowledge  of  God  derived  from  it  ?  which  are  not 
the  prevailing  usage  of  Scripture,  but  technical  terms  which 
we  have  gathered  from  one  or  two  passages,  and  made  the 
key-notes  of  our  scale  ?  The  words  satisfaction  and  predesti- 
nation nowhere  occur  in  Scripture  ;  the  word  regeneration 
only  twice,  and  but  once  in  a  sense  at  all  similar  to  that  which 
it  bears  among  ourselves  ;  the  word  justification  twice  only, 
and  nowhere  as  a  purely  abstract  term. 

But  although  language  and  logic  have  'so  transfigured  the 
meaning  of  Scripture,  we  cannot  venture  to  say  that  all  theo- 
logical controversies  are  questions  of  words.  If  from  their 
winding  mazes  we  seek  to  retrace  our  steps,  we  still  find 
differences  which  have  a  deep  foundation  in  the  opposite 
tendencies  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  corresponding  division 
of  the  world  itself.  That  men  of  one  temper  of  mind  adopt 
one  expression  rather  than  another,  may  be  partly  an  acci- 
dent ;  but  the  adoption  of  an  expression  by  persons  of  marked 
character  makes  the  difference  of  words  a  reality  also.  That 
can  scarcely  be  thought  a  matter  of  words  which  cut  in 
sunder  the  Church,  which  overthrew  princes,  which  made  the 
line  of  demarcation  between  Jewish  and  Gentile  Christians 
in  the  Apostolic  age,  and  is  so,  in  anotlfer  sense,  between 
Protestant  and  Catholic  at  the  present  day.  And  in  a  deeper 
way  of  reflection  than  this,  if  we  turn  from  the  Church  to  the 
21* 


24 C  ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY    FAITH. 

individual,  we  seem  to  see  around  us  opposite  natures  ana 
characters,  whose  lives  really  exhibit  a  difference  correspond- 
ing to  that  of  which  we  are  speaking.  The  one  incline  to 
morality,  the  other  to  religion ;  the  one  to  the  sacramental, 
the  other  to  the  spiritual ;  the  one  to  multiplicity  in  outward 
ordinances,  the  other  to  simplicity ;  the  one  consider  chiefly 
•  the  means,  the  other  the  end ;  the  one  desire  to  dwell  upon 
doctrinal  statements,  the  other  need  only  the  name  of  Christ ; 
the  one  turn  to  ascetic  practices,  to  lead  a  good  life,  and  to  do 
good  to  others,  the  other  to  faith,  humility,  and  dependence  on 
,God.  We  may  sometimes  find  the  opposite  attributes  com- 
bine with  each  other  (there  have  ever  been  cross  divisions  on 
this  article  of  belief  in  the  Christian  world ;  the  great  body 
of  the  Reformed  Churches,  and  a  small  minority  of  Roman 
Catholics  before  the  Reformation,  being  on  the  one  side  ;  and 
the  whole  Roman  Catholic  Church  since  the  Reformation  and 
a  section  of  the  Protestant  Episcopalians,  and  some  lesser 
communions,  on  the  other)  ;  still,  in  general,  the  first  of  these 
chai-aclers  answers  to  that  doctrine  which  the  Roman  Church 
sums  up  in  the  formula  of  justification  by  works  ;  the  latter 
is  that  temper  of  mind  which  finds  it^  natural  dogmatic  ex- 
pression in  the  words  "  We  are  justified  by  faith." 

These  latter  words  have  been  carried  out  of  their  former 
circle  of  ideas  into  a  new  one  by  the  doctrines  of  the  Refor- 
mation. They  have  become  .haixlened,  stiffened,  sharpened, 
by  the  exigencies  of  controversy,  and  torn  from  what  may 
be  termed  their  context  in  the  Apostolical  age.  To  that  age 
we  must  return  ere  we  can  think  in  the  A|>ostle's  language. 
His  conception  of  faith,  although  simpler  than  our  own,  has 
nevertheless  a  peculiar  relation  to  his  own  day ;  it  is  at  once 
wider,  and  also  narrower,  than  the  use  of  the  wonl  among 
ourselves, —  wider  in  that  it  is  the  symbol  of  the  admission 
of  the  Gentiles  into  the  Church,  but  narrower  also  in  that  it 
is  the  negative  of  the  law.  Faith  is  the  proper  technical 
tenn  which  excludes  the  law  ;  being  what  I  lie  law  is  not,  as 
the  law  is  what  faith  is  not.  No  middle  term  connects  the 
two,  or  at  least  none  which  the  Apostle  admits,  until  lie  has 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY    FAiTH.  247 

first  widened  the  breach  between  them  to  the  uttermost 
He  does  not  say,  "  Was  not  Abraham  our  father  justified  by 
works  (as  well  as  by  faith),  when  he  had  offered  up  Isaac 
his  son  on  the  altar  ?  "  but  only,  "  What  saith  the  Scripture  ? 
Abraham  believed  God,  and  it  was  counted  to  him  for  right- 
eousness." 

The  Jewish  conception  of  righteousness  was  the  fulfilment 
of  the  Commandments.  He  w^ho  walked  in  all  the  precepts 
of  the  Law  blameless,  like  Daniel  in  the  Old  Testament,  or 
Joseph  and  Nathanael  in  the  New,  was  righteous  before  God. 
"  What  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ?  Thou  knowest  the 
Commandments.  Do  not  commit  adultery,  do  not  steal,  do 
not  bear  false  witness.  All  these  have  I  kept  from  my  youth 
up."  Such  is  a  picture  of  Jewish  righteousness  as  it  presents 
itself  in  its  most  favorable  light.  But  it  was  a  righteousness 
which  comprehended  the  observance  of  ceremonial  details  as 
well  as  moral  duties ;  it  might  be  nothing  more  than  an  obe- 
dience to  the  Law  as  such,  losing  itself  on  the  surface  of 
rehgion,  in  distinctions  about  meats  and  drinks,  or  forms  of 
oaths,  or  purifications,  without  any  attempt  to  make  clean 
that  which  is  within.  It  might  also  pierce  inward  to  the  divid- 
ing asunder  of  the  soul.  .Then  was  heard  the  voice  of  con- 
science crying,  "All  these  things  cannot  make  the  doers 
thereof  perfect."  When  every  external  obligation  was  ful- 
filled, the  internal  began.  Actions  must  include  thoughts 
and  intentions,  —  the  Seventh  Commandment  extend  to  the 
adultery  of  the  heart ;  in  one  word,  the  Law  must  become 
a  spirit. 

But  to  the  mind  of  St.  Paul  the  spirit  presented  itself,  not 
so  much  as  a  higher  fulfilment  of  the  Law,  but  as  antago- 
nistic to  it.  From  this  point  of  view,  it  appeared,  not  that 
man  could  never  fulfil  the  law  perfectly,  but  that  he  could 
never  fulfil  it  at  all.  What  God  required  was  something 
different  in  kind  from  legal  obedience.  What  man  needed 
was  a  return  to  God  and  nature.  He  was  burdened,  strait- 
ened, shut  out  from  the  presence  of  his  Father,  —  a  servant, 
not  a  son;  to  whom,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  the  heaven  was 


218  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   t^lTU. 

* 

become  as  iron,  and  the  earth  brass.  The  new  righteonsness 
must  raise  him  above  the  burden  of  ordinances,  and  bring 
him  into  a  Hving  communion  with  God.  It  must  be  within, 
and  not  without  him,  —  written,  not  on  tables  of  stone,  but  on 
fleshly  tables  of  the  heart.  But  inward  righteousness  was  no 
peculiar  privilege  of  the  Israelites ;  it  belonged  to  all  man- 
kind. And  the  revelation  of  it,  as  it  satisfied  the  need  of 
the  individual  soul,  vindicated  also  the  ways  of  God  to  man ; 
it  showed  God  to  be  equal  in  justice  and  mercy  to  all  man- 
kind. 

As  the  symbol  of  this  inward  righteousness,  St.  Paul  found 
;m  expression  already  in  use  among  the  Jews,  —  righteous- 
ness by  faith,  —  derived  from  those  passages  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment which  spoke  of  Abraham  being  justified  by  faith.  The 
very  idea  of  faith  carried  men  into  the  unseen  world,  —  out 
of  the  reach  of  ordinances,  —  beyond  the  evil  of  this  present 
life ;  it  revealed  to  them  that  world  which  was  now  hidden 
but  was  soon  to  appear.  The  Jewish  nation  were  too  far  out 
of  the  way  to  be  saved  as  a  nation :  the  Lord  was  at  hand 
As  at  the  last  hour,  when  we  have  to  teach  men  rather  how 
to  die  than  how  to  live,  the  Apostle  could  only  say  to  those 
who  would  receive  it,  "  Believe ;  all  things  are  possible  to 
him  that  believes." 

Such  are  some  of  the  peculiar  aspects  of  the  Apostle's 
doctrine  of  righteousness  by  faith.  To  our  own  minds  it  has 
become  a  later  stage  or  a  particular  form  of  the  more  general 
doctrine  of  salvation  through  Christ,  of  the  grace  of  God  to 
man,  or  of  the  still  more  general  truth  of  spiritual  religion. 
It  is  the  connecting  link  by  which  we  appropriate  these  to 
oursilves,  —  the  himd  which  we  put  out  to  apprehend  the 
mercy  of  God.  It  wjis  not  so  to  the  Ajiostle.  To  him  grace 
and  lath  and  the  Spirit  are  not  parts  of  a  doctrinal  system, 
but  diffcnMJt  expresj^ions  of  the  same  truth.  **  Beginning  in 
the  Spirit  **  is  another  way  of  saying  "  Being  justified  by 
faith."  He  uses  tliem  indiscriminately,  and  therefore  we 
cannot  suppose  that  he  could  have  laid  any  stress  on  distino- 
tiona  between  them.     Even  the  apparently  precise  antithesis 


ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY    FAITH.  249 

of  the  prepositions  eV  dta  varies  in  different  passages.  Only 
in  reference  to  the  law,  faith,  rather  than  grace,  is  the  more 
correct  and  natural  expression.  It  was  Christ,  or  not  Christ ; 
the  Spirit,  or  not  the  Spirit ;  faith  and  the  law,  that  were  the 
dividing  principles ;  not  Christ  through  faith  as  opposed  to 
Christ  through  works ;  or  the  Spirit  as  communicated  through 
grace,  to  the  Spirit  as  independent  of  grace. 

Illusive  as  are  the  distinctions  of  later  controversies  as 
guides  to  the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  there  is  another 
help,  of  which  we  can  hardly  avail  ourselves  too  much,  —  the 
interpretation  of  fact.  To  read  the  mind  of  the  Apostle  we 
must  read  also  the  state  of  the  world  and  the  Church  by 
which  he  was  surrounded.  Now,  there  are  two  great  facts 
which  correspond  to  the  doctrine  of  righteousness  by  faith, 
which  is  also  the  doctrine  of  the  universality  of  the  Gospel : 
first,  the  vision  which  the  Apostle  saw  on  the  way  to  Damas- 
cus ;  secondly,  the  actual  conversion  of  the  Gentiles  by  the 
preaching  of  the  Apostle.  Righteousness  by  faith,  admission 
of  the  Gentiles,  even  the  rejection  and  restoration  of  the 
Jews,  are  —  himself  under  so  many  different  points  of  view. 
The  way  by  which  God  had  led  him  was  the  way  also  by 
which  he  was  leading  other  men.  When  he  preached  right- 
eousness by  faith,  his  conscience  also  bore  him  witness  that 
this  was  the  manner  in  which  he  had  himself  passed  from 
darkness  to  light,  from  the  burden  of  ordinances  to  the  power 
of  an  endless  life.  In  proclaiming  the  salvation  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, he  was  interpreting  the  world  as  it  was  ;  their  admission 
into  the  Church  had  already  taken  place  before  the  eyes  of 
all  mankind ;  it  was  a  purpose  of  God  that  was  actually  ful- 
filled, not  waiting  for  some  future  revelation.  Just  as  when 
doubts  are  raised  respecting  his  Apostleship,  he  cut  them 
short  by  the  fact  that  he  was  an  Apostle,  and  did  the  work  of 
an  Apostle  ;  so,  in  adjusting  the  relations  of  Jew  and  Gen- 
tile, and  justifying  the  ways  of  God,  the  facts,  read  aright, 
are  the  basis  of  the  doctrine  which  he  teaches.  All  that  he 
further  shows  is,  that  these  facts  were  in  accordance  with  the 
Old  Testament,  with  the  words  of  the  prophets,  and  the  deal- 


250  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY    FAITn. 

ings  of  God  with  the  Jewisli  people.  And  the  Apostles  at 
Jerusalem,  equally  with  himself,  admitted  the  success  of  his 
mission  as  an  evidence  of  its  truth. 

But  the  faith  which  St.  Paul  preached  was  not  merely  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen,  in  which  the  Gentiles  also  had 
part,  nor  only  the  reflection  of  "  the  violence  "  of  the  world 
around  him,  which  was  taking  the  kingdom  of  heaven  hy 
force.  The  true  source,  the  hidden  life,  to  which  justification 
attaches,  is  Christ.  It  is  true  that  we  nowhere  find  in  the 
Epistles  the  expression  "justification  by  Christ"  exactly  in 
the  sense  of  modem  theology.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
are  described  as  dead  with  Christ,  we  live  with  him,  we  are 
members  of  his  body,  we  follow  him  in  all  the  stages  of  his 
being.  All  this  is  another  way  of  expressing  "  We  are  jus- 
tified by  faith."  That  which  takes  us  out  of  ourselves  and 
links  us  with  Christ,  which  anticipates  in  an  instant  the  rest 
of  life,  which  is  the  door  of  e^ery  heavenly  and  spiritual 
relation,  presenting  us  through  a  glass  with  the  image  ot 
Christ  crucified,  is  faith.  The  difference  between  our  own 
mode  of  thought  and  that  of  the  Apostle  is  only  this,  that  to 
him  Christ  is  set  forth  more  as  in  a  picture,  and  less  through 
the  medium  of  ideas  or  figures  of  speech ;  and  that  while  we 
conceive  the  Saviour  more  naturally  as  an  object  of  faith,  to 
St,  Paul  he  is  rather  tlie  indwelling  power  of  life  which  is 
fashioned  in  him,  the  marks  of  whose  body  he  bears,  the 
measure  of  whose  sufferings  he  fills  up. 

When  in  the  Gospel  it  is  said,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thou  shall  be  saved,"  this  is  substantially  the  same 
truth  as  "  We  are  justified  by  faith."  Yet  we  may  note  two 
points  of  difference,  as  well  as  two  of  resemblance,  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  doctrine  is  set  forth  in  the  Gospel  as 
compared  with  the  manner  of  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.  First, 
in  the  omission  of  any  connection  between  the  doctrine  of 
faith  in  Christ  and  the  a«hnission  of  the  Gentiles.  The 
Saviour  is  within  the  borders  of  Israel ;  and  accordingly  little 
is  said  of  the  "sheep  not  of  this  fold,"  or  the  other  husband- 
men who  shall  take  posses4»ion  of  the  vineyard.     Secondly, 


ON   RIGHTEOXTSNESS    BY   FAITH.  251 

there  is  in  the  words  of  Christ  no  antagonism  or  opposition  to 
the  Law,  except  so  far  as  the  Law  itself  represented  an  im- 
perfect or  defective  morahty,  or  the  perversions  of  the  Law 
had  become  inconsistent  with  every  moral  principle.  Two 
points  of  resemblance  have  also  to  be  remarked  between  the 
faith  of  the  Gospels  and  of  the  Epistles.  In  the  first  place, 
both  are  accompanied  by  forgiveness  of  sins.  As  our  Sav- 
iour to  the  disciple  who  affirms  his  belief  says,  "  Thy  sins  be 
forgiven  thee  "  ;  so  St.  Paul,  when  seeking  to  describe,  in  the 
language  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  state  of  justification  by 
faith,  cites  the  words  of  David,  ''  Blessed  is  the  man  to  whom 
the  Lord  will  not  impute  sin."  Secondly,  they  have  both  a 
kind  of  absoluteness  which  raises  them  above  earthly  things. 
There  is  a  sort  of  omnipotence  attributed  to  faith,  of  which 
the  believer  is  made  a  partaker.  "  Whoso  hath  faith  as  a 
grain  of  mustard-seed,  and  should  say  unto  this  mountain.  Be 
thou  removed  and  be  thou  cast  into  the  sea,  it  shall  be  done 
unto  him,"  is  the  language  of  our  Lord.  "  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ  that  strengtheneth  me,"  are  the  words  of  St. 
Paul. 

Faith,  in  the  language  of  the  Apostle,  is  almost  synony- 
mous with  freedom.  That  quality  in  us  which  in  reference  to 
God  and  Christ  is  faith,  in  reference  to  ourselves  and  our 
fellow-men  is  Christian  liberty.  "  With  this  freedom  Christ 
has  made  us  free "  ;  ''  where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there 
is  liberty."  It  is  the  image  also  of  the  communion  of  the 
world  to  come.  "  The  Jerusalem  that  is  above  is  free,"  and 
"  the  creature  is  waiting  to  be  delivered  into  the  glorious 
liberty  of  the  children  of  God."  It  applies  to  the  Church  as 
now  no  longer  confined  in  the  prison-house  of  the  Jewish 
dispensation  ;  to  the  grace  of  God,  which  is  given  irrespec- 
tively to  all ;  to  the  individual,  the  power  of  whose  will  is 
now  loosed ;  to  the  Gospel,  as  freedom  from  the  Law,  setting 
the  conscience  at  rest  about  questions  of  meats  and  drinks, 
and  new  moons  and  Sabbaths  ;  and,  above  all,  to  the  freedom 
from  the  sense  of  sin.  The  law  of  the  spirit  of  life  is  also 
the  law  of  freedom. 


252  ON  RIGHTEOUSNESS   BY   FAITH. 

In  modern  language  assurance  has  been  deemed  necessary 
to  the  definition  of  a  true  faith.  There  is  a  sense  also  in 
which  final  assurance  entered  into  the  conception  of  the  faith 
of  the  Epistles.  Looking  at  men  from  without,  it  was  jx)ssi- 
ble  for  them  to  fall  away  finally ;  it  was  possible  also  to  fall 
without  falling  away ;  as  St.  John  says,  there  is  a  sin  unto 
death,  and  there  is  a  sin  not  unto  death.  But  looking  inwards 
into  their  hearts  and  consciences,  their  salvation  was  not  a 
matter  of  probability  ;  they  knew  whom  they  had  believed, 
and  were  confident  that  He  who  had  begun  the  good  work  in 
them  would  continue  it  unto  the  end.  All  calculations  re- 
specting the  future  were  to  them  lost  in  the  fact  that  they  were 
already  saved,  —  oi  (ru^ofitvoi  and  ol  aotBrjaofxtvoi  indifferently. 
To  use  a  homely  expression,  they  had  no  time  to  inquire 
whether  the  state  to  which  they  are  called  was  permanent 
and  final.  The  same  intense  faith  which  separated  them  from 
the  world,  and  all  things  in  it,  had  already  given  them  a  part 
in  the  world  to  come.  They  had  not  to  win  the  crown,  —  it 
was  already  won  :  this  life,  when  they  thought  of  themselves 
in  relation  to  Christ,  was  the  next ;  as  their  union  with  him 
seemed  far  more  true  and  real  than  the  mere  accidents  of 
their  temporal  existence. 

A  few  words  will  briefly  recapitulate  the  doctrine  of  right- 
eousness by  faith  as  gathered  from  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul. 

Faith,  then,  according  to  the  Apostle,  is  the  spiritual  prin- 
ciple whereby  we  go  out  of  ourselves  to  hold  communion  with 
God  and  Christ;  not  like  the  faith  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  clothing  itself  in  the  shadows  of  the  Law ;  but 
opposed  to  the  Law,  and  of  a'nature  purely  moral  and  spirit- 
ual. It  frees  man  from  the  flesh,  the  Law,  the  world,  and 
from  himself  also ;  that  is,  fix>m  his  sinful  nature,  which  is  the 
meeting  of  these  three  elements  in  his  spiritual  consciousness. 
And  to  be  ^justified  **  is  to  pass  into  a  new  state;  such  as 
that  of  the  Christian  world  when  compared  with  the  Jewish 
or  Pagan  ;  such  as  that  which  St.  Paul  had  himself  felt  at 
the  moment  of  his  conversion  ;  such  as  that  which  he  reminds 
the  Gaiatian  converts  they  had  experienced,  **  before  whose 


ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH.  253 

eyes  Jesus  Christ  was  e\ndently  set  forth  cruciiied " ;  an 
inward  or  subjective  state,  to  which  the  outward  or  objective 
act  of  calling,  on  God's  part,  through  the  preaching  of  the 
Apostle,  corresponded  ;  which,  considered  on  a  wider  scale, 
was  the  acceptance  of  the  Gentiles  and  of  every  one  who 
feared  God ;  corresponding  in  like  manner  to  the  eternal 
purpose  of  God ;  indicated  in  the  case  of  the  individual  by 
his  own  inward  assurance  ;  in  the  case  of  the  world  at  large, 
testified  by  the  fact ;  accompanied  in  the  first  by  the  sense  of 
peace  and  forgiveness,  and  implying  to  mankind  generally 
the  last  final  principle  of  the  Divine  government,  —  "God 
concluded  all  under  sin  that  he  might  have  mercy  upon  all." 
We  acknowledge  that  there  is  a  difference  between  the 
meaning  of  justification  by  faith  to  St.  Paul  and  to  ourselves. 
Eighteen  hundred  years  cannot  have  passed  away,  leaving 
the  world  and  the  mind  of  man,  or  the  use  of  language,  the 
same  as  it  was.  But  while  acknowledging  this  difference,  our 
object  is  not  to  base  some  new  doctrine  upon  our  natural  in- 
stincts, or  to  rear  some  fabric  of  philosophical  speculation, 
framed  in  the  same  terms,  yet  different  in  meaning  and  spirit. 
Christianity  is  not  a  philosophy,  but  a  life  ;  and  religious 
ideas,  unless  designed  to  destroy  the  simphcity  of  rehgion, 
must  be  simple  and  practical.  The  true  use  of  philosophy  in 
reference  to  religion  is  to  restore  its  simplicity,  by  freeing  it 
from  those  perplexities  which  the  love  of  system  or  past 
philosophies,  or  the  imperfection  of  language,  or  the  mere 
lapse  of  ages,  may  have  introduced  into  it.  To  understand 
St.  Paul  we  found  it  necessary  to  get  rid  of  the  scholastic 
definitions  and  deductions,  which  might  be  described  as  a  sort 
of  mazy  undergrowth  of  some  noble  forest,  which  must  be 
cleared  away  ere  we  can  wander  in  its  ranges.  Neither  is  it 
less  necessary  for  ourselves  to  return  to  the  plain  letter  of 
Scripture,  and  seek  a  truth  to  live  and  die  in ;  not  to  be  the 
subject  of  verbal  disputes,  which  entangle  the  religious  sense 
in  scholastic  perplexities.  Whatever  logical  necessity  there 
may  be  supposed  to  be  in  drawing  out  Christianity  as  a  bys- 
tem,  whether  as  food  for  the  intellect,  or  as  a  defence  against 

22 


Z54  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS   BY   FAITH. 

heresy,  the  words  of  eternal  life  will  ever  be  few  and  simple, 
**  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved." 

Once  more,  then,  we  return  to  Scripture  ;  not  to  explain  it 
away,  but  to  translate  it  into  the  language  of  our  own  hearts, 
and  to  separate  its  accidents  from  its  essence.  Looking  at  it 
as  a  rule  of  life  and  faith  for  ourselves,  no  less  than  for  the 
early  Church,  we  must  not  leave  out  of  sight  the  great  diffei 
ences  by  which  we  are  distinguished  from  those  for  whom  it 
was  first  written.  The  greatest  difference  of  all  is,  that  the 
words  of  life  and  inspiration  as  they  were  to  them  ai*e  to  us 
words  of  fixed  and  conventional  meaning ;  they  no  longer 
express  feelings  of  the  heart,  but  ideas  of  the  head.  Nor  is 
the  difference  less  between  the  state  of  the  world  then  and 
now,  not  only  of  the  outward  world  in  which  we  live,  but  of 
that  inner  world  in  which  we  ourselves  are.  The  Law  is 
indeed  dead  to  us,  and  we  to  the  Law,  and  yet  the  whole 
language  of  St,  Paul  is  relative  to  what  has  not  only  passed 
away,  but  has  left  no  trace  of  itself  in  the  thoughts  of  men. 
The  perpetual  variations  and  transitions  of  meaning  in  the 
use  of  the  word  Law,  which  have  been  enlarged  upon  else- 
where, tend  also  to  a  corresponding  variation  in  the  meaning 
of  faith.  We  are  not  looking  for  the  immediate  coming  of 
Christ,  and  do  not  anticipate,  therefore,  in  a  single  generation, 
the  whole  course  of  the  world,  or  the  history  of  a  life,  in  the 
moment  of  baptism  or  conversion.  To  us  this  life  and  the 
next  have  each  their  fixed  boundary,  —  time  and  eternity, 
as  we  CiiU  them,  —  which  it  would  appear  mysticism  to  do 
away.  Last  of  all,  we  are  partakers  of  this  world,  and  not 
wholly  living  in  the  world  to  come  ;  which  miikes  it  difficult 
for  us  to  imagine  the  intensity  of  meaning  in  such  expressions 
as  **  dead  with  Christ,"  "  if  ye  then  be  risen  with  Christ." 

Tlie  neglect  of  these  essential  differences  between  ourselves 
and  the  fir»t  disciples  has  sometimes  led  to  a  distortion  ot 
doctrine  and  a  perversion  of  life,  in  the  attempt  to  reproduce 
exactly  the  scriptuml  imago ;  where  woixls  have  had  nothuig 
to  correspond  to  them,  views  of  human  nature  have  been 
invented  to  suit  the  language  of  St.  Paul ;  thus,  for  example. 


OJ5    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH.  255 

the  notion  of  legal  righteousness  is  indeed  a  fiction  as  applied 
to  our  own  times.  Nor,  in  truth,  is  the  pride  of  human 
nature,  or  the  tendency  to  rebel  against  the  will  of  God,  or  to 
attach  an  undue  value  to  good  works,  better  founded.  Men 
are  evil  in  all  sorts  of  w^ays  :  they  deceive  themselves  and 
otherg  ;  they  walk  by  the  opinion" of  others,  and  not  by  faith; 
they  give  way  to  their  passions  ;  they  are  imperious  and 
oppressive  to  one  another.  But  if  we  look  closely,  we  per- 
ceive that  most  of  their  sins  are  not  consciously  against  God ; 
the  pride  of  rank,  or  wealth,  or  power,  or  intellect,  may  show 
itself  towards  their  brethren,  but  no  man  is  proud  towards 
God.  No  man  does  wrong  for  the  sake  of  rebelling  against 
God.  The  evil  is  not,  that  men  are  bound  under  a  curse  by 
the  ever-present  consciousness  of  sin,  but  that  sins  pass  un- 
heeded by ;  not  that  they  wantonly  offend  God,  but  that  they 
know  him  not.  So,  again,  there  may  be  a  false  sense  of 
security  towards  God,  as  is  sometimes  observed  on  a  death- 
bed, when  mere  physical  weakness  seems  to  incline  the  mind 
to  patience  and  resignation  ;  yet  this  more  oftei\  manifests 
itself  in  a  mistaken  faith,  than  in  a  reliance  on  good  works. 
Or,  to  take  another  instance,  we  are  often  surprised  at  the 
extent  to  which  men  who  are  not  professors  of  religion  seem 
to  practise  Christian  virtues  ;  yet  their  state,  however  we 
may  regard  it,  has  nothing  in  common  Avith  legal  or  self- 
righteousness. 

Leaving,  then,  the  scholastic  definitions,  as  well  as  the 
peculiar  and  relative  aspect  of  the  Pauline  doctrine,  we  have 
again  to  ask  ourselves  the  meaning  of  justification  by  faith. 
We  may  divide  the  subject,  first,  as  it  may  be  considered  in 
the  abstract ;  and,  secondly,  as  consciously  appropriated  to 
ourselves. 

I.  Our  justification  may  be  regarded  as  an  act  on  God's 
part.  It  may  be  said'  that  this  act  is  continuous,  and  com- 
mensurate with  our  whole  lives  ;  that  although  "known  unto 
God  are  all  his  works  from  the  beginning,"  yet  that,  speaking 
as  men,  and  translating  what  we  term  the  acts  of  God  into 
human  language,  we  are  ever  being  more  and  more  justified, 


25o  ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH. 

as  in  theological  writers  we  are  admitted  to  be  more  and 
more  sanctified.  At  first  sight  it  seems  that  to  deny  this 
involves  us  in  a  fiction  and  absurdity;  that  is,  it  is  a  kind  of 
fiction  to  say  that  we  are  justified  at  once,  but  sanctified  all 
our  life  long.  Yet  consider  it  practically,  and  is  it  not  so  ? 
If  we  look  at  the  truth  objectively,  must  we  not  admit  that  it 
is  his  unchangeable  will  that  all  mankind  should  be  saved? 
The  consciousness  of  justification  in  the  mind  of  the  believer 
is  but  the  knowledge  of  this  fact,  which  always  was.  It  is 
not  made  more  a  fact  by  our  knowing  it  for  many  yeai*s  or 
our  whole  life.  And  this  is  what  is  witnessed  to  by  actual 
experience  ;  for  he  who  is  justified  by  faith  does  not  go  about 
doubting  in  himself  or  his  future  destiny,  but  trusting  in  God. 
From  the  first  moment  that  he  turns  earnestly  to  God  he  is 
sure  that  he  is  saved ;  not  from  any  confidence  in  himself, 
but  from  an  overpowering  sense  of  the  love  of  God  and 
Christ. 

II.  It  is  an  old  problem  in  philosophy,  "What  is  the  begin- 
ning of  our  moral  being  ?  What  is  that  prior  principle  which 
makes  good  actions  produce  good  habits?  Which  of  those 
acts  raises  us  Jibove  the  world  of  sight  ?  Plato  would  have 
answered.  The  contemplation  of  the  idea  of  good.  Some  of 
ourselves  would  answer  by  the  substitution  of  a  conception  of 
moral  growth  for  the  mechanical  theory  of  habits.  Leaving 
out  of  sight  our  relation  to  God,  we  can  only  say,  that  wo 
are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  with  powers  which  we 
are  unable  to  analyze.  It  is  a  parallel  difficulty  in  religion 
which  is  met  by  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  We 
grow  up  spiritually,  we  cannot  tell  how  ;  not  by  outward  acts, 
nor  always  by  energetic  effort,  but  stilly  and  silently,  by  the 
grace  of  God  descending  upon  us,  as  the  dew  falls  upon  the 
earth.  If  we  imagine  a  person  anxious  and  fearful  about  his 
future  state,  straining  every  nerve  lest  he  should  fall  short  of 
the  requirements  of  Go<l,  overpowered  with  the  memory  of 
his  past  sins, —  that  is  not  the  temper  of  mind  iu  which  he 
can  truly  serve  Gotl,  or  work  out  his  own  salvation.  Without 
peace  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  acL    At  once  and  imme- 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS   BY   FAITH.  257 

diately  the  Gospel  tells  him  that  he  is  justified  by  faith,  that 
his  pardon  is  simultaneous  with  the  very  moment  of  his  be- 
lief, that  he  may  go  on  his  way  rejoicing  to  fulfil  the  duties 
of  life ;  for,  in  human  language,  God  is  no  longer  angry 
with  him. 

TIL  Thus  far,  in  the  consideration  of  righteousness  by 
faith,  we  have  obtained  two  aspects  of  the  doctrine,  in  which, 
even  when  regarded  in  the  abstract,  it  has  still  a  meaning ; 
first,  as  expressing  the  unchangeableness  of  the  mercy  of 
God;  and,  secondly,  the  mysteriousness  of  human  action. 
As  we  approach  nearer,  we  are  unavoidably  led  to  regard  the 
gift  of  righteousness  rather  in  reference  to  the  subject  than  to 
the  object,  in  relation  to  man  rather  than  God.  What  quality, 
feeling,  temper,  habit  in  ourselves  answers  to  it  ?  It  may  be 
more  or  less  conscious  to  us,  more  of  a  state  and  less  of  a 
feeling,  showing  itself  rather  in  our  lives  than  our  lips.  But 
for  these  differences  we  can  make  allowance.  It  is  the  same 
faith  still,  though  showing  itself  in  divers  ways  and  under 
various  circumstances.  We  must  suppose  it  conscious  for  us 
to  be  able  to  describe  it. 

IV.  The  expression  "  righteousness  by  faith "  indicates, 
first,  the  personal  character  of  salvation ;  not  what  we  do,  but 
what  we  are,  is  the  source  of  our  acceptance  with  God.  Who 
can  bear  to  think  of  his  own  actions  as  they  are  seen  by  the 
eye  of  the  Almighty  ?  Looking  at  their  defective  perform- 
ance, or  analyzing  them  into  the  secondary  motives  out  of 
which  they  have  sprung,  do  we  seem  to  have  any  ground  on 
which  we  can  stand  with  God  ?  is  there  anything  which  satis- 
fies ourselves  ?  That  which  makes  us  acceptable  to  God  is 
something  besides  all  this,  which  frees  us  from  the  burden 
of  our  good  works,  which  raises  us  above  the  tangle  of  human 
life.  The  love  of  a  parent  to  a  child  is  not  measured  out  in 
proportion  to  the  child's  good  qualities.  And  although  the 
measure  of  God's  love  to  man  is  perfect  justice,  yet  the  rela- 
tion in  which  we  can  most  adequately  conceive  of  God  is, 
that  of  a  person  to  persons,  who  condescends  to  draw  us 
towards  him,  who  allows  us  to  attach  ourselves  to  him.  The 
22* 


258  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH. 

symbol  and  mean  of  tliis  personal  relation  of  man  to  God  is 
faith ;  and  the  righteousness  which  consists  not  in  what  we 
do,  but  in  what  we  are,  is  the  righteousness  of  faith. 

V.  Faith  may  be  spoken  of  in  the  language  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews,  as  the  substance  of  things  unseen.  But 
wliat  are  the  things  unseen  ?  Not  merely  an  invisible  world 
ready  to  flash  through  the  thraldom  of  the  material  at  the 
appearance  of  Christ ;  not  angels,  or  powers  of  darkness,  or 
even  God  himself  seated,  as  the  Old  Testament  described,  on 
the  circle  of  the  heavens ;  but  the  kingdom  of  truth  and  jus- 
tice, the  things  that  are  within,  of  which  God  is  the  centre, 
and  with  which  men  everywhere  by  faith  hold  communion. 
Faith  is  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  this  kingdom ;  that  is, 
in  the  truth  and  justice  and  mercy  of  God,  who  disposes  all 
ttiings,  —  not  perhaps  in  our  judgment  for  the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  his  creatures,  but  absolutely  in  accordance  with  our 
moral  notions.  And  that  this  is  not  seen  to  be  the  case  here, 
makes  it  a  matter  of  faith  and  not  of  sight,  that  it  will  be  so 
in  some  future  world,  or  is  so  in  some  ways  that  we  are 
unable  to  comprehend.  He  that  believes  6n  God  believes, 
first,  that  he  is;  and,  secondly,  that  he  is  the  rewarder  of 
them  that  seek  him. 

VI.  Now,  if  we  go  on  to  ask  what  is  it  that  gives  us  this 
absolute  and  present  assurance  of  the  truth  and  justice  of 
God,  the  answer  is,  the  life  and  death  of  Christ,  who  is  the 
image  of  God  and  man  alike,  the  Son  of  God  ;  the  First-bom 
of  the  redeemed.  We  know  what  he  himself  has  told  us  of 
God,  and  we  cannot  conceive  perfect  goodness  separate  from 
perfect  truth  ;  nay,  this  goodness  itself  is  the  only  and  the 
highest  conception  we  can  form  of  Go<l,  if  we  confess  and 
comprehend  what  the  mere  immensity  of  the  material  world 
tends  to  suggest,  that  God  is  a  Being  different  in  kind  from 
any  physical  power ;  a  Being  of  whom  the  reason  of  man, 
however  feeble,  forms  a  far  truer  (though  most  inadequate) 
conception  than  imagination  in  its  highest  flighu*.  Admit  the 
statements  of  the  Gwpel  respecting  Christ ;  it  is  not  so  much 
a  matter  to  be  proved  by  dubious  inference  from  texts,  as 


ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY    FAITH.  259 

mpaiifest  on  the  surface  that  he  is  Divine  in  all  that  truly  con- 
stitutes divinity  except  this  outward  garb  of  flesh. 

That  is  the  only  image  of  God  which  we  are  capable  of 
conceiving ;  an  image  not  of  physical,  nor  even  of  spiritual 
power,  seen  in  the  sufferings  rather  than  in  the  miracles  of 
Christ  our  Saviour  ;  the  image  of  perfect  goodness  and  peace 
and  truth  and  love. 

We  are  on  the  edge  of  a  theological  difficulty ;  for  who 
can  deny,  that  the  image  of  that  goodness  may  fade  from  the 
mind's  eye  after  so  many  centuries,  or  that  there  are  those 
who  recognize  the  idea  and  may  be  unable  to  admit  the  fact? 
Can  we  say  that  this  error  of  the  head  is  also  an  error  of  the 
heart?  The  lives  of  such  unbelievers  in  the  facts  of  Chris- 
tianity would  sometimes  refute  our  explanation.  And  yet  it 
is  true  that  Providence  has  made  our  spiritual  life  dependent 
on  the  belief  in  certain  truths,  and  those  truths  run  up  into 
matters  of  fact,  with  the  belief  in  which  they  have  ever  been 
associated  ;  it  is  true  also,  that  the  most  important  moral 
consequences  flow  from  unbelief.  We  grant  the  difficulty : 
no  complete  answer  can  bo  given  to  it  on  this  side  the  grave. 
Doubtless  God  has  provided  a  way  that  the  sceptic  no  less 
than  the  believer  shall  receive  his  due ;  he  does  not  need  our 
timid  counsels  for  the  protection  of  the  truth.  If  among 
those  who  have  rejected  the  facts  of  the  Gospel  history  some 
have  been  rash,  hypercritical,  inflated  with  the  pride  of  in- 
tellect, or  secretly  alienated  by  sensuality  from  the  faith  of 
Christ,  —  there  have  been  others,  also,  upon  whom  we  may 
behcTe  to  rest  a  portion  of  that  blessing  which  comes  to  such 
as  "  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed." 

yil.  In  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  and  yet  more  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  the  relation  of  Christ  to  mankind 
is  expressed  under  figures  of  speech  taken  from  the  Mosaic 
dispensation  :  he  is  the  Sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men,  "  the 
Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world  "  ;  the 
Antitype  of  all  the  types,  the  impersonation  of  the  Jewish 
Law.  There  are  two  ways  in  which  we  may  treat  such 
expressions ;  we  may  regard  them  as  figures  of  speech,  which 


260  ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS   BY   FAITH. 

from  their  variety  and  incongruity  with  each  other,  we  seem 
justified  in  doing  (compare  "Essay  on  the  Doctrine  of  tlie 
Atonement "),  or  as  realities,  true  so  far  as  we  are  capable 
of  conceiving,  about  which  we  may  as  surely  reason  as  about 
any  other  statements  of  fact:  thus,  for  example,  we  may 
speak  of  the  infinite  sacrifice  of  Christ ;  of  nothing  less  being 
capable  of  satisfying  the  wrath  of  God ;  of  God  seeing  man 
in  Christ  other  than  he  really  is.  But  such  expressions, 
whatever  comfort  they  may  have  given  those  who  think  of 
God  under  human  figures,  seem  inevitably  to  dissolve  when 
we  rise  to  the  contemplation  of  him  as  the  God  of  truth, 
without  parts  or  passions,  who  knows  all  things,  and  cannot 
be  angry  with  any,  or  see  them  other  than  they  truly  are. 
What  is  indicated  by  them,  to  us  who  are  dead  to  the  Law, 
is,  that  God  has  manifested  himself  in  Christ  as  the  God  of 
mercy ;  who  is  more  ready  to  hear  than  we  to  pray ;  who 
has  forgiven  us  almost  before  we  ask  him  ;  who  has  given  us 
his  only  Son,  and  how  will  he  not  with  him  also  give  us  all 
things  ?  They  intimate,  on  God's  part,  that  he  is  not  extreme 
to  mark  what  is  done  amiss ;  in  human  language,  "  he  is 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  " :  on  our  part, 
that  we  say  to  God,  "  Not  of  ourselves,  but  of  thy  grace  and 
mercy,  O  Lord."  Not  in  the  fulness  of  life  and  health,  nor 
iD  the  midst  of  business,  nor  in  the  schools  of  theology ;  but 
in  the  sick  chamber,  where  are  no  more  earthly  interests,  and 
in  the  hour  of  death,  we  have  before  us  the  living  image  of 
the  truth  of  justification  by  faith,  when  man  acknowledges, 
on  the  confines  of  another  world,  the  unprofitableness  of  his 
own  good  deeds,  and  the  goodness  of  God  even  in  afilicting 
him,  and  his  absolute  reliance,  not  on  works  of  righteousness 
that  he  has  done,  but  on  the  Divine  mercy. 

VIII.  A  true  faith  hjus  been  sometimes  defined  to  be,  not 
a  faith  in  the  unseen  merely,  or  in  God  or  Christ,  but  a 
personal  assurance  of  salvation.  Such  a  feeling  may  be  only 
tlie  veil  of  sensualism ;  it  may  be  also  the  noble  confidence  of 
St.  Paul.  "  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor 
anguls,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH.  261 

tilings  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  It  may  be  like  the  anticipation  of 
any  other  fact ;  or  an  emotion,  resting  on  no  other  ground 
except  that  we  believe ;  or,  thirdly,  a  conviction  deeply  rooted 
in  our  life  and  character.  The  whole  spirit  of  Scripture,  as 
well  as  our  own  knowledge  of  human  nature,  seems  to  re- 
quire that  we  should  have  this  personal  confidence  in  our  own 
salvation :  and  yet  to  assume  that  we  are  at  the  end  of  the 
race  may  make  us  lag  in  our  course.  Whatever  danger  there 
is  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  decrees,  the  danger  is  nearer 
home,  and  more  liable  to  influence  practice,  when  our  belief 
takes  the  form  of  personal  assurance.  How,  then,  are  we 
to  escape  from  the  dilemma,  and  have  a  rational  confidence  in 
the  mercy  of  God  ? 

IX.  This  confidence  must  rest,  first,  on  a  practical  sense  of 
the  truth  and  justice  of  God,  rising  far  above  perplexities  of 
fact  in  the  world  around  us,  or  the  tangle  of  metaphysical  or 
theological  difficulties.  But  although  such  a  sense  of  the 
truth  or  justice  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  our  final  assur- 
ance respecting  ourselves,  yet  a  link  of  connection  is  wanting 
before  we  can  venture  to  appropriate  that  which  we  acknowl- 
edge in  the  abstract.  The  justice  of  God  may  lead  to  our 
condemnation  as  well  as  to  our  justification.  Are  we,  then, 
in  the  language  of  the  ancient  tragedy,  to  say  that  no  one  can 
be  counted  happy  before  he  dies,  or  that  salvation  is  only 
imparted  in  a  certain  qualified  sense  before  the  end  of  our 
coui*se  is  seen  ?  Not  so  :  the  Gospel  encourages  us  to  regard 
ourselves,  beyond  all  doubt  or  scruple,  as  already  saved ;  for 
the  work  of  Christ  is  already  done,  and  we  have  already  par- 
ticipated in  it  and  appropriated  it  by  faith.  But  this  appro- 
priation of  it  means  nothing  short  of  the  utter,  entire  renun- 
ciation of  self  and  its  interests,  the  absolute  will  and  intention 
to  conform  to  the  service  of  God.  He  who  feels  this  in  him- 
self feels  also  the  absolute  certainty  of  salvation.  Only  while 
we  are  halting  between  right  and  wrong,  between  this  world 
and  the  next,  can  we  have  any  doubt  of  our  future  destiny. 


262  ON    RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH. 

Thus  then  we  seem  to  find  a  rational  ground  for  Unal 
assurance,  beginning  in  a  clear  insight  into  the  perfect  justice 
and  mercy  of  God,  and  ending  in  an  entire  appropriation  of 
it  to  ourselves,  dependent  onlj  on  the  unreservedness  of  our 
devotion  to  his  service.  The  same  dilficultj  may  seem  to 
spring  up  again  with  the  question,  how  we  are  to  define  an 
unreserved  devotion  to  the  service  of  God;  or,  in  other 
words,  what  is  such  a  true  faith  as  is  sufficient  to  justify  a 
final  assurance  ?  To  which  it  may  be  answered,  first,  that  we 
know  it  by  such  test  as  we  know  the  truth  and  sincerity  of  any 
other  disposition  of  mind  or  heart,  that  is,  by  the  effects  ;  and, 
secondly,  that  unless  our  faith  be  real  in  a  sense  far  above 
the  ordinary  conventional  belief  even  of  good  men,  none  can 
be  justified  in  making  it  the  ground  of  final  assurance. 

•*  And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  and  love,  these  three ;  but 
the  greatest  of  th^se  is  love."  There  seems  to  be  a  sort  of 
contradiction  in  love  being  placed  first,  and  yet  faith  the  sole 
instrument  of  justification.  Love,  according  to  some,  is  pre- 
ferred to  faith,  because  when  faith  and  hope  are  swallowed 
up  in  sight,  love  abides  still.  Love,  according  to  others,  is 
one  principle  of  justification,  faith  another.  The  true  reason 
seems  to  be,  because  love  describes  a  closer  and  more  inti- 
mate union  with  God  and  our  fellow-men  than  faith.  It  is 
a  kind  of  pre-eminence  that  love  enjoys  over  faith,  that  it 
has  never  yet  passed  into  the  technical  language  of  theology. 
But  there  is  a  reflection  that  these  words  of  St.  Paul  natu- 
rally suggest  in  reference  to  our  present  subject.  It  is  this : 
Christian  truth  luis  many  phiuses,  and  will  be  received  by  one 
temper  of  mind  in  one  way,  by  another  in  another.  There 
is  divei*sity  of  doctrine,  but  the  same  spirit :  love  is  the  more 
natural  expression  to  St.  John,  faith  to  St.  Paul.  Human 
minds  are  different,  and  the  same  mind  varies  at  different 
times ;  and  even  the  best  of  men  have  but  a  feeble  sense  of 
the  unseen  world.  We  cannot  venture  further  to  dim  that 
consciousness  by  confnjing  it  to  one  expression  of  belief; 
and  therefore,  while  speaking  of  faith  as  the  instrument  of 


ON   RIGHTEOUSNESS    BY   FAITH.  263 

justification,  because  faith  best  indicates  the  apprehensive, 
dependent  character  of  our.  Christian  life,  we  are  bound  also 
to  deny  that  the  truth  of  Christ  is  contained  in  any  one 
statement,  or  the  Christian  life  linked  to  any  one  quality. 
We  must  acknowledge  the  imperfection  of  language  and 
thought,  seeking  rather  to  describe  than  to  define  the  work 
of  the  Spirit,  which  has  as  many  forms  as  the  qualities,  tem- 
pers, faculties,  circumstances,  and  accidents  of  our  nature. 


ON  THE  IMPUTATION  OF  THE  SIN 
OF  ADAM. 

Br  BENJAMIN  JOWETT. 


That  so  many  opposite  systems  of  theology  seek  their 
authority  in  Scripture,  is  a  fair  proof  that  Scripture  is  differ- 
ent from  them  all.  That  is  to  say,  Scripture  often  contains  in 
germ,  what  is  capable  of  being  drawn  to  either  side  ;  it  is  in- 
distinct, where  they  are  distinct ;  it  presents  two  lights,  where 
they  present  only  one  ;  it  speaks  inwardly,  while  they  clothe 
themselves  in  the  forms  of  human  knowledge.  That  indis- 
tinct, intermediate,  inward  point  of  view  at  which  the  truth 
exists  but  in  germ,  they  have  on  both  sides  tended  to  extin- 
guish and  suppress.  Passing  allusions,  figures  of  speech, 
rhetorical  oppositions,  have  been  made  the  foundation  of  doc- 
trinal statements,  which  are  like  a  part  of  the  human  mind 
itself,  and  seem  as  if  they  could  never  be  uprooted,  without 
uprooting  the  very  sentiment  of  religion.  Systems  of  this 
kind  exercise  a  constraining  power,  which  makes  it  difficult 
for  us  to  see  anything  in  Scripture  but  themselves. 

For  example,  how  slender  is  the  foundation  in  the  New 
Testament  for  the  doctrine  of  Adam's  sin  being  imputed  to 
his  posterity,  —  two  passages  in  St.  Paul  at  most,  and  these 
of  uncertain  interpretation.  The  little  cloud,  no  bigger  than 
a  man's  hand,  has  covered  the  heavens.  To  reduce  such 
subjects  to  their  proper  proportions,  we  should  consider: 
First,  what  space  they  occupy  in  Scripture ;  Secondly,  how 
far  the  language  used  respecting  them  is  literal  or  figurative ; 


266  IMPUTATION    OF   THE    SIN    OF    ADAM. 

Thirdly,  whether  they  agree  with  the  more  general  truths  o! 
Scripture  and  our  moral  sense,  or  are  not  "  rather  repugnant 
thereto  ** ;  Fourthly,  whether  their  origin  may  not  be  prior  to 
Cliristianity,  or  traceable  in  the  after  history  of  the  Church ; 
Fifthly,  how  far  to  ourselves  they  are  anything  more  than 
words. 

The  two  passages  alluded  to  are  Rom.  v.  12,  21,  1  Cor.  xv. 
21,  22,  45  -  49,  in  both  of  which  parallels  are  drawn  between 
Adam  and  Christ.  In  both  the  sin  of  Adam  is  spoken  of,  or 
seems  to  be  spoken  of,  as  the  source  of  death  to  man.  "  As 
by  one  man's  transgression  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and 
death  by  sin,"  and  "  As  in  Adam  all  die."  Such  words  ap- 
pear plain  at  first  sight ;  that  is  to  say,  we  find  in  them  what 
we  bring  to  them :  let  us  see  what  considerations  modify  their 
meaning.  If  we  accept  the  Pelagian  view  of  the  passage, 
which  refers  the  death  of  each  man  to  actual  sin,  there  is  an 
end  of  the  controversy.  But  it  does  not  equally  follow  that, 
if  what  is  termed  the  received  interpretation  is  given  to  the 
words,  the  doctrine  which  it  has  been  attempted  to  ground 
upon  them  would  have  any  real  foundation. 

We  will  suppose,  then,  that  no  reference  is  contained  in 
either  passage  to  "actual  sin."  In  some  other  sense  than 
this  mankind  are  identified  with  Adam's  transgression.  But 
the  question  still  remains,  whether  Adam's  sin  and  death  are 
merely  the  type  of  the  sin  and  death  of  his  posterity,  or  more 
than  this  the  cause.  The  first  explanation  quite  satisfies  the 
meaning  of  the  words  "  As  in  Adam  all  die " ;  the  second 
seems  to  be  required  by  the  parallel  passage  in  the  Romans, 
**  As  by  one  man  sin  came  into  the  world,"  and  "  As  by  one 
man  many  were  made  sinners,"  if  taken  literally. 

The  question  involves  the  more  general  one,  whether  the 
use  of  language  in  St,  Paul  makes  it  necessary  that  we 
should  take  his  words  litemlly  in  this  piu^^sage.  Is  he  speak- 
ing of  Adam's  sin  being  the  cause  of  sin  and  death  to  his 
posterity,  in  any  other  sense  than  he  s|)oke  of  Abraham  being 
a  father  of  circumcision  to  the  uneircumcised  ?  (Chap,  iv.) 
Yet  no  one  would  think  uf  basing  a  doctrine  on  these  worda. 


ni   UTATION    OF    THE    SIN    OF   ADAM.  267 

Or  is  he  speaking  of  all  men  dying  in  Adam,  in  any  other 
sense  than  he  says  in  2  Cor.  v.  15,  that  if  one  died  for  all, 
then  all  died.  Yet  in  this  latter  passage,  while  Christ  died 
literally,  it  was  only  in  a  figure  that  all  died.  May  he  be 
arguing  in  the  same  M^ay  as  when  he  infers  from  the  word 
"  seed  "  being  used  in  the  singular,  that  "  thy  seed  is  Christ " : 
Or,  if  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  passage  under  considera- 
tion: Is  the  righteousness  of  Christ  there  imputed  to  be- 
lievers, independentl}''  of  their  own  inward  holiness  ?  and  if 
so,  should  the  sin  of  Adam  be  imputed  independently  of  the 
actual  sins  of  men  ? 

I.  A  very  slight  difference  in  the  mode  of  expression 
would  make  it  impossible  for  us  to  attribute  to  St.  Paul  the 
doctrine  of  the  imputation  of  the  sin  of  Adam.  But  we 
have  seen  before  how  varied,  and  how  diiferent  from  our 
own,  are  his  modes  of  thought  and  language.  Compare  i.  4, 
iv.  25.  To  him,  it  was  but  a  slight  transition,  from  the  iden- 
tification of  Adam  with  the  sins  of  all  mankind,  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  sin  of  Adam  as  the  cause  of  those  sins.  To 
us  there  is  the  greatest  difference  between  the  two  statements. 
To  him  it  was  one  among  many  figures  of  the  same  kind,  to 
oppose  the  first  and  second  Adam,  as  elsewhere  he  opposes 
the  old  and  new  man.  With  us  this  figure  has  been  singled 
out  to  be  made  the  foundation  of  a  most  exact  statement  of 
doctrine.  We  do  not  remark  that  there  is  not  even  the 
appearance  of  attributing  Adam's  sin  to  his  posterity,  in  any 
part  of  the  Apostle's  writings  in  which  he  is  not  drawing  a 
parallel  between  Adam  and  Christ. 

II.  The  Apostle  is  not  speaking  of  Adam  as  fallen  from  a 
state  of  innocence.  He  could  scarcely  have  said,  "  The  first 
man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy,"  if  he  had  had  in  his  mind  that 
Adam  had  previously  existed  in  a  pure  and  perfect  state. 
He  is  only  drawing  a  parallel  between  Adam  and  Christ, 
The  moment  we  leave  this  parallel,  all  is  uncertain  and  i.ii- 
determined.  The  logical  consequences  which  are  appended 
to  his  words  are  far  out  of  his  sight.  He  would  hardly  have 
found  language  to  describe  the  nature  of  Adam's  act,  whether 


268  nrpuTATiON  of  the  sin  of  adam. 

occurring  by  his  own  free  will  or  not,  or  the  way  in  which  the 
supposed  effect  was  communicated  to  his  posterity. 

III.  There  are  other  elements  of  St.  Paul's  teaching, 
which  are  either  inconsistent  with  the  imputation  of  Adam's 
sin  to  his  posterity,  or  at  any  rate  are  so  prominent  as  to 
make  such  a  doctrine,  if  held  by  him,  comparatively  unim 
portant  According  to  St.  Paul,  it  is  not  the  act  of  Adam, 
but  the  law,  that 

"  Brought  sin  into  the  world  and  all  our  woe." 

And  the  law  is  almost  equivalent  to  "  the  knowledge  of  sin.** 
But  original  sin  is,  or  may  be,  wholly  unconscious  ;  born  with 
our  birth,  and  growing  with  our  growth.  Not  so  the  sin  of 
which  St.  Paul  speaks,  which  is  inseparable  from  conscious- 
ness, as  he  says  himself:  "  I  was  alive  without  the  law  once,** 
which  would  be  dead,  if  we  were  unconscious  of  it. 

IV.  It  will  be  admitted  that  we  ought  to  feel  still  greater 
reluctance  to  press  the  statement  of  the  Apostle  to  its  strict 
logical  consequences,  if  we  find  that  the  language  which  he 
here  uses  is  that  of  his  age  and  country.  From  the  circum- 
stance of  our  first  reading  the  doctrine  of  the  imputation 
of  Adam's  sin  to  his  posterity  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul, 
we  can  hardly  persuade  ourselves  that  this  is  not  its  orig- 
inal source.  The  incidental  manner  in  which  it  is  alluded 
to,  might  indeed  lead  us  to  suppose  that  it  would  scarcely 
have  been  intelligible,  had  it  not  been  also  an  opinion  of 
his  time.  But  if  this  inference  should  seem  doubtful,  there 
is  direct  evidence  to  show  that  the  Jews  connected  sin  and 
death,  and  the  sins  and  death  of  mankind,  with  the  sin  of 
Adam,  in  the  same  way  as  the  Apostle.  The  earliest  trace 
of  such  a  doctrine  is  found  in  the  aixKTjphal  l^k  of  Wis- 
dom, ii.  24.  It  was  a  further  refinement  of  some  of  their 
teachem,  that  when  Adam  sinned  the  whole  world  sinned; 
because  at  that  time  Adam  was  the  whole  world,  or  because 
the  soul  of  Adam  comprehended  the  souls  of  all,  so  that 
Adam's  sin  conveyed  an  hereditary  taint  to  his  posterity.  It 
was  a  confusion  of  a  half  physical,  half  logical  or  metaphysi- 


IMPUTATION    OF   THE    SIN    OF   ADAM.  269 

cal  notion,  arising  in  the  minds  of  men  who  had  not  yet  learnt 
the  lesson  of  our  Saviour :  "  That  which  is  from  without 
defileth^ot  a  man."  That  human  nature  or  philosophy  some-- 
times  rose  up  against  such  inventions  is  certainly  true  ;  but 
it  seems  to  be  on  the  whole  admitted,  that  the  doctrine  of 
Augustine  is  in  substance  generally  agreed  to  by  the  Rabbis, 
and  that  there  is  no  trace  of  their  having  derived  it  from  the 
writings  of  St.  Paul. 

But  not  only  is  the  connection  of  sin  and  death  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  sin  of  Adam,  found  in  the  Rabbinical 
writings ;  the  type  and  antitype  of  the  first  and  second  Adam 
are  also  contained  in  them.  In  reading  the  first  chapters  of 
Genesis,  the  Jews  made  a  distinction  between  the  higher 
Adam,  who  was  the  light  of  the  world,  and  had  control  over 
all  things,  who  was  mystically  referred  to  where  it  is  said, 
they  two  shall  be  one  flesh ;  and  the  inferior  Adam  who  was 
Lord  only  of  the  creation  ;  who  had  "  the  breath  of  life,"  but 
not  "the  living  soul."  Schoettgen,  I.  512-514,  670-673. 
By  some,  indeed,  the  latter  seems  to  have  been  identified  with 
the  Messiah.  By  Philo,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Xoyos  is  iden- 
tified with  the  TrpSiTos  'Abdfi,  who  is  without  sex,  while  the 
av$paiiros  xot«>f  is  created  afterwards  by  the  help  of  the  angels. 
It  is  not  the  object  of  this  statement  to  reconcile  these  varia- 
tions, but  merely  to  indicate,  first,  that  the  idea  of  the  first 
and  second  Adam  was  familiar  to  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  St 
Paul,  and  that  one  or  other  of  them  was  regarded  by  them 
as  the  Word  and  the  Messiah. 

V.  A  shghter,  though  not  less  real,  foundation  of  the  doc- 
trine has  been  what  may  be  termed  the  logical  symmetry  of 
the  imputation  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ  and  of  the  sin 
of  Adam.  The  latter  half  is  the  correlative  of  the  former ; 
they  mutually  support  each  other.  We  place  the  first  and 
second  Adam  in  juxtaposition,  and  seem  to  see  a  fitness  or 
reason  in  the  one  standing  in  the  same  relation  to  the  fallen 
as  the  other  to  the  saved. 

VI.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  ask  the  further  question, 
what  meaning  we  can  attach  to  the  imputation  of  sin  and  guilt 

23* 


270  IMPUTATION    OF   THE    SIN    OF   ADAM. 

which  are  not  our  own,  and  of  which  we  are  unconscious. 
God  can  never  see  us  other  than  we  really  are,  or  judge  us 
without  reference  to  all  our  circumstances  and  antecedents. 
If  we  can  hardly  suppose  that  he  would  allow  a  fiction  of 
mercy  to  be  interposed  between  ourselves  and  him,  still  less 
can  we  imagine  that  he  would  interpose  a  fiction  of  ven- 
geance. If  he  requires  holiness  before  he  will  save,,  much 
more,  may  we  say  in  the  Apostle's  form  of  speech,  will  he 
require  sin  before  he  dooms  us  to  perdition.  Nor  can  any- 
thing be  in  spirit  more  contrary  to  the  living  consciousness  of 
sin  of  which  the  Apostle  eveiy  where  speaks,  than  the  con- 
ception of  sin  as  dead  unconscious  evil,  originating  in  the 
act  of  an  individual  man,  in  the  world  before  the  flood. 

On  the  whole,  then,  we  are  led  to  infer,  that,  in  the  Au- 
gustinian  interpretation  of  this  passage,  even  if  it  agree  with 
the  letter  of  the  text,  too  little  regard  has  been  paid  to  the 
extent  to  which  St.  Paul  uses  figurative  language,  and  to  the 
manner  of  his  age  in  interpretations  of  the  Old  Testament 
The  difficulty  of  supposing  him  to  be  allegorizing  the  narra- 
tive of  Genesis  is  slight,  in  comparison  with  the  difficulty  of 
supposing  him  to  countenance  a  doctrine  at  variance  with 
our  first  notions  of  the  moral  nature  of  God. 

But  when  the  figure  is  dropped,  jind  allowance  is  made  for 
the  manner  of  the  age,  the  question  once  more  returns  upon 
us,  "  What  is  the  Apostle's  meaning  ? "  He  is  arguing,  we 
see,  itar'  aiBpomoVf  and  taking  his  stand  on  the  received  opin- 
ions of  his  time.  Do  we  imagine  that  his  object  is  no  other 
than  to  set  the  seal  of  his  authority  on  these  traditional  be- 
liefs ?  The  whole  analogy,  not  merely  of  the  writings  of  St. 
Paul,  but  of  the  entire  New  Testament,  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  that  his  object  was,  not  to  reassert  them,  but  to  teach, 
through  them,  a  new  and  nobler  lesson.  The  Jewish  Rabbis 
would  have  spoken  of  the  first  and  second  Adum ;  but  which 
of  them  would  have  made  the  application  of  the  figure  to  all 
mankind  ?  A  figure  of  speech  it  remains  still,  an  allegory 
after  the  manner  of  that  age  and  country,  but  yet  with  no 
uncertain  or  ambiguous  interpretation.     It  means  that  *^  God 


IMPUTATION    OF    THK    SIN    OF    ADAM.  271 

hath  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  "  ;  that 
"  he  hath  concluded  all  under  sin,  that  he  may  have  mercy 
upon  all "  ;  that  life  answers  to  death,  the  times  before  to  the 
times  after  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  means  that  we 
are  one  in  a  common  sinful  nature  which,  even  if  it  be  not 
derived  from  the  sin  of  Adam,  exists  as  really  as  if  it  were. 
It  means  that  we  shall  be  made  one  in  Christ  by  the  grace 
of  God,  in  a  measure  here,  more  fully  and  perfectly  in 
another  world.  More  than  this  it  also  means,  and  more  than 
language  can  express,  but  not  the  weak  and  beggarly  ele- 
ments of  Rabbinical  tradition.  We  may  not  encumber  St. 
Paul  with  the  things  which  he  "  destroyed."  Wliat  it  means 
further  is  not  to  be  attained  by  theological  distinctions,  but 
by  putting  off  the  old  man  and  putting  on  the  New  Man. 


ON  CONVERSION   AND   CHANGES   OF 
CHARACTEE. 

By   benjamin  JOWETT. 


Thus  have  we  the  image  of  the  life-long  struggle  gathered 
up  in  a  single  instant.*  In  describing  it  we  pass  beyond  tho 
consciousness  of  the  individual  into  a  world  of  abstractions ; 
we  loosen  the  thread  by  which  the  spiritual  faculties  are  held 
together,  and  view  as  objects  what  can,  strictly  speaking,  have 
no  existence,  except  in  relation  to  the  subject.  The  divided 
members  of  the  soul  are  ideal,  the  conflict  between  them  is 
ideal,  so  also  is  the  victory.  What  is  real  that  corresponds 
to  this,  is  not  a  momentary,  but  a  continuous  conflict,  which 
%^e  feel  rather  than  know,  —  which  has  its  different  aspects 
of  hope  and  fear,  triumph  and  despair,  the  action  and  reaction 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  depths  of  the  human  soul, 
awakening  the  sense  of  sin  and  conveying  the  assurance  of 
forgiveness. 

The  language  in  which  we  describe  this  conflict  is  very 
different  from  that  of  the  Apostle.  Our  circumstances  are 
so  changed  that  we  are  hardly  able  to  view  it  in  its  simplest 
elements.  Christianity  is  now  the  established  religion  of  the 
civilized  portion  of  mankind.  In  our  own  country  it  has 
become  part  of  the  law  of  the  land ;  it  speaks  with  authority, 
it  is  embodied  in  a  Church,  it  is  supported  by  almost  univer- 
sal opinion,  and  fortified  by  wealth  and  prescription.  Those 
who  know  least  of  its  spiritual  life,  do  not  deny  its  greatness 

♦  Viz.,  in  Rom.  vii.  7  -  25. 


274    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

as  a  power  in  the  world.  Analogous  to  this  relation  in 
which  it  stands  to  our  history  and  social  state,  is  the  relation 
in  which  it  stands  also  to  the  minds  of  individuals.  We  are 
brought  up  in  it,  and  unconsciously  receive  it  as  the  habit  of 
our  thoughts  and  the  condition  of  our  hfe.  It  is  without  us, 
and  we  are  within  its  circle ;  we  do  not  become  Christians, 
we  are  so  from  our  birth.  Even  in  those  who  suppose  them- 
selves to  have  passed  through  some  sudden  and  violent 
change,  and  to  have  tasted  once  for  all  of  the  heavenly  gift, 
the  change  is  hardly  ever  in  the  form  or  substance  of  their 
behef,  but  in  its  quickening  power ;  they  feel,  not  a  new  creed, 
but  a  new  spirit  within  them.  So  that  we  might  truly  say 
of  Christianity,  that  it  is  "  the  daughter  of  time  " ;  it  hangs 
to  the  past,  not  only  because  the  first  century  is  the  era  of 
its  birth,  but  because  each  successive  century  strengthens  its 
form  and  adds  to  its  external  force,  and  entwines  it  with  more 
numerous  links  in  our  social  state.  Not  only  may  we  say, 
that  it  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  law  of  the  land,  but  part  and 
parcel  of  the  character  of  each  one,  which  even  the  worst  of 
men  cannot  wholly  shake  off. 

But  if  with  ourselves  the  influence  of  Christianity  is  almost 
always  gradual  and  imperceptible,  with  the  first  believers  it 
was  almost  always  sudden.  There  was  no  interval  whichi 
separated  the  preaching  of  Peter  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
from  the  baptism  of  the  three  thousand.  The  eunuch  of 
Candace  paused  for  a  brief  space  on  a  journey,  and  was  then 
baptized  into  the  name  of  Christ,  which  a  few  hours  previously 
he  had  not  so  much  as  heard.  There  was  no  period  of  pro- 
bation like  that  which,  a  century  or  two  later,  was  appro- 
priated to  the  instruction  of  the  Catechumens.  It  was  an 
impulse,  an  inspiration  passing  from  the  lips  of  one  to  a 
chosen  few,  and  communicated  by  them  to  the  ear  and  soul 
of  listening  multitudes.  As  the  wind  bloweth  where  it  list- 
eth,  and  we  hear  the  sounds  thereof;  as  the  lightning  shineth 
from  the  one  end  of  the  heaven  to  the  other ;  so  suddenly, 
fitfully,  simultaneously,  new  thoughts  come  into  their  minds, 
not  to  one  only,  but  to  many,  to  whole  cities  almost  at  once. 
They  were  pricked  with  the  sense  of  sin ;  they  were  melted 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    275 

with  the  love  of  Christ ;  their  spiritual  nature  "  came  again 
like  the  flesh  of  a  little  child."  And  some,  like  St.  Paul, 
became  the  very  opposite  of  their  former  selves  ;  from  scof- 
fers, believers  ;  from  persecutors,  preachers ;  the  thing  that 
they  were,  was  so  strange  to  them,  that  they  could  no  longer 
look  calmly  on  the  earthly  scene  which  they  hardly  seemed 
to  touch,  which  was  already  lighted  up  with  the  wrath  and 
mercy  of  God.  There  were  those  among  them  who  "  saw 
visions  and  dreamed  dreams,"  who  were  "  caught  up,"  like 
St.  Paul,  "  into  the  third  heaven,"  or  like  the  twelve,  "  spake 
with  other  tongues,  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance."  And 
sometimes,  as  in  the  Thessalonian  Church,  the  ecstasy  of  con- 
version led  to  strange  and  wild  opinions,  such  as  the  daily 
expectation  of  Christ's  coming.  The  "round  world"  itself 
began  to  reel  before  them,  as  they  thought  of  the  things  that 
were  shortly  to  come  to  pass. 

But  however  sudden  were  the  conversions  of  the  earliest 
believers,  however  wonderful  the  circumstances  which  at- 
tended them,  they  were  not  for  that  reason  the  less  lasting  or 
sincere.  Though  many  preached  "  Christ  of  contention," 
though  "  Demas  forsook  the  Apostle,"  there  were  few  who, 
having  once  taken  up  the  cross,  turned  back  from  "  the  love 
of  this  present  world."  They  might  waver  between  Paul 
and  Peter,  between  the  circumcision  and  the  uncircumcision  j 
they  might  give  ear  to  the  strange  and  bewitching  heresies  of 
the  East ;  but  there  is  no  trace  that  many  returned  to  "  those 
that  were  no  gods,"  or  put  off  Christ ;  the  impression  of  the 
truth  that  they  had  received  was  everlasting  on  their  minds. 
Even  sins  of  fornication  and  uncleanness,  which  from  the 
Apostle's  frequent  warnings  against  them  we  must  suppose  to 
have  lingered,  as  a  sort  of  remnant  of  heathenism  in  the 
early  Church,  did  not  wholly  destroy  their  inward  relation  to 
God  and  Christ.  Though  "  their  last  state  might  be  worse 
than  the  first,"  they  could  never  return  again  to  live  the  life 
of  all  men  after  having  tasted  "  the  heavenly  gift  and  the 
powers  of  the  world  to  come." 

Such  was  the  nature  of  conversion  among  the  early  ChriHf 


276    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

tians,  the  new  birth  of  which  by  spiritual  descent  we  are  our- 
selves the  offspring.  Is  there  anything  in  history  like  it  ?  any- 
thing in  our  own  lives  which  may  help  us  to  understand  it? 
That  which  the  Scripture  describes  from  within,  we  are  for  a 
while  going  to  look  at  from  a  different  point  of  view,  not  with 
reference  to  the  power  of  God,  but  to  those  secondary  causes 
tlirough  which  he  works,  —  the  laws  which  experience  shows 
that  he  himself  imposes  on  the  operations  of  his  spirit.  Such 
an  inquiry  is  not  a  mere  idle  speculation ;  it  is  not  far  from 
the  practical  question,  "  How  we  are  to  become  better."  Im- 
perfect as  any  attempt  to  analyze  our  spiritual  life  must  ever 
be,  the  changes  which  we  ourselves  experience  or  observe  in 
others,  compared  with  those  greater  and  more  sudden  changes 
which  took  place  in  the  age  of  the  Apostle,  will  throw  light 
upon  each  other. 

In  the  sudden  conversions  of  the  early  Christians  we  ob- 
serve three  things  which  either  tend  to  discredit,  or  do  not 
accompany,  the  working  of  a  similar  power  among  ourselves. 
First,  that  conversion  was  marked  by  ecstatic  and  unusual 
phenomena ;  secondly,  that  it  fell  upon  whole  multitudes  at 
once ;  thirdly,  that,  though  sudden,  it  was  permanent. 

When  we  consider  what  is  implied  in  such  expressions  as 
"not  many  wise,  not  many  learned,"  were  called  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  we  can  scarcely  avoid  feeling  that 
there  must  have  been  much  in  the  early  Church  which  would 
have  been  distasteful  to  us  as  men  of  education ;  much  that 
must  have  worn  the  appeamnce  of  excitement  and  enthu- 
siasm. Is  the  mean  conventicle,  looking  almost  like  a  private 
house,  more  like  that  ftrst  assembly  of  Christians  in  the  large 
upper  room,  or  the  Catholic  church  arrayed  in  all  the  glories 
of  Christian  art  ?  Neither  of  them  is  altogether  like  in  spirit 
perhaps,  but  in  externals  the  first.  Is  the  dignified  hierarchy 
that  occupy  the  seats  around  the  altar,  more  like  the  multi« 
tude  of  first  believers,  or  the  lowly  crowd  that  kneel  upon  the 
pavement  ?  If  we  try  to  embody  in  the  mind's  eye  the  forms 
of  the  first  teachers,  and  still  more  of  their  followers,  we 
cannot  help  reading  the  true  lesson,  however  great  maj  be 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    277 

the  illusions  of  poetry  or  of  art.  Not  St.  Paul  standing  on 
Mars'  Hill  in  the  fulness  of  manlj  strength,  as  we  have  him 
in  the  cartoon  of  Raphael,  is  the  true  image  ;  but  such  a  one 
as  he  himself  would  glory  in,  whose  bodily  presence  was 
weak  and  speech  feeble,  who  had  an  infirmity  in  his  flesh,  and 
bore  in  his  body  the  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

And  when  we  look  at  this  picture  "  full  in  the  face,"  how- 
ever we  might  by  nature  be  inclined  to  turn  aside  from  it,  or 
veil  its  details  in  general  language,  we  cannot  deny  that  many 
things  that  accompany  the  religion  of  the  uneducated  now, 
must  then  also  have  accompanied  the  Gospel  preached  to  the 
poor.  There  must  have  been,  humanly  speaking,  spiritual 
delusions  where  men  lived  so  exclusively  in  the  spritual 
world ;  there  were  scenes  which  we  know  took  place  such  as 
St.  Paul  says  would  make  the  unbeliever  think  that  they 
were  mad.  The  best  and  holiest  persons  among  the  poor 
and  ignorant  are  not  entirely  free  from  superstition,  according 
to  the  notions  of  the  educated ;  at  best  they  are  apt  to  speak 
of  religion  in  a  manner  not  quite  suited  to  our  taste ;  they 
sing  with  a  loud  and  excited  voice ;  they  imagine  themselves 
to  receive  Divine  oracles,  even  about  the  humblest  cares  ot 
4ife.  Is  not  this,  in  externals  at  least,  very  like  the  appear- 
ance which  the  first  disciples  must  have  presented,  who 
obeyed  the  Apostle's  injunction,  "Is  any  sad?  let  him  pray; 
is  any  merry  ?  let  him  sing  psalms."  Could  our  nerves  have 
borne  to  witness  "  the  speaking  with  tongues,"  or  "  the  ad 
ministration  of  baptism,"  or  the  love-feasts  as  they  probably 
existed  in  the  early  Church  ? 

This  difference  between  the  feelings  and  habits  of  the  first 
Christians  and  ourselves,  must  be  borne  in  mind  in  relation 
to  the  subject  of  conversion.  For  as  sudden  changes  are 
more  likely  to  be  met  with  amongst  the  poor  and  uneducated 
in  the  present  day,  it  certainly  throws  light  on  the  subject  oi 
the  first  conversions,  that  to  the  poor  and  uneducated  the 
Gospel  was  first  preached.  And  yet  these  sudden  changes 
were  as  real,  nay,  more  real  than  any  gradual  changes  which 
tivke  place  among  ourselves.     The  Stoic  or  Epicurean  philos- 

24 


278    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

opher  who  had  come  into  an  assembly  of  believers  speaking 
with  tongues,  would  have  remarked,  that  among  the  vulgar 
religious  extravagances  were  usually  short-lived.  But  it  was 
not  so.  There  was  more  there  than  he  had  eyes  to  see,  or 
than  was  dreamed  of  in  a  philosophy  like  his.  Not  only  was 
there  the  superficial  appearance  of  poverty  and  meanness  and 
enthusiasm,  from  a  nearer  view  of  which  we  are  apt  to 
bhrink,  but  underneath  this,  brighter  from  its  very  obscurity, 
purer  from  the  meanness  of  the  raiment  in  which  it  was 
apparelled,  was  the  life  hidden  with  Christ  and  God.  There, 
and  there  only,  was  the  power  which  made  a  man  humble 
(TtStead  of  proud,  self-denying  instead  of  self-seeking,  spiritual 
instead  of  carnal,  a  Christian  instead  of  a  Jew ;  which  made 
him  embrace,  not  only  the  brethren,  but  the  whole  human 
race,  in  the  arms  of  his  love. 

But  it  is  a  further  diiFerence  between  the  power  of  the 
Gospel  now  and  in  the  first  ages,  that  it  no  longer  converts 
whole  multitudes  at  once.  Perhaps  this  very  individuality  in 
its  mode  of  working,  may  not  be  without  an  advantage  in 
awakeninf  us  to  its  higher  truths  and  more  entire  spiritual 
freedom.  Whether  this  be  so  or  not,  which  is  not  our  present 
question,  we  seem  to  see  a  diminution  of  its  collective  forcO 
on  the  heans  of  men.  In  our  own  days  the  preacher  sees 
the  seed,  sown  ."gradually,  spring  up;  first  one,  then  another, 
begins  to  lead  &  Oetter  life ;  then  a  change  comes  over  the 
state  of  society,  ofien  from  causes  over  which  he  has  no  con- 
trol; he  makes  some  steps  forwards  and  a  few  backwards, 
and  trusts  far  more,  if  he  is  wise,  to  the  silent  influence  of 
religious  education  than  to  the  power  of  preaching ;  and,  per- 
haps, the  result  of  a  long  life  of  ministerial  labor  is  far  less 
than  that  of  a  single  dl'scourse  from  the  lips  of  the  Apostles 
or  their  followers.  Even  in  missions  to  the  heathen  the  vital 
energies  of  Christianity  cease  to  operate  to  any  great  extent, 
at  least  on  the  effete  civilization  of  India  and  China ;  the 
limits  of  the  kingdoms  of  light  and  darkness  are  nearly  the 
same  as  heretofore.  At  any  rate  it  cannot  be  said  that  Chris- 
tianity has  wrought  any  sudden  amelioration  of  mankind  by 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    279 

the  immediate  preaching  of  the  word,  since  the  conversion  of 
the  barbarians.  Even  within  the  Christian  world  there  is  a 
parallel  retardation.  The  ebb  and  flow  of  reformation  and 
counter-reformation  have  hardly  changed  the  permanent  land- 
marks. The  age  of  spiritual  crises  is  past.  The  growth  of 
Christianity  in  modern  times  may  be  compared  to  the  change 
of  the  body,  when  it  has  already  arrived  at  its  full  stature. 
In  one  half-century  so  vast  a  progress  was  made,  in  a  few 
centuries  more  the  world  itself  seemed  to  "  have  gone  after 
Him,"  and  now  for  near  a  thousand  years  the  voice  of  ex- 
perience is  repeating  to  us,  "  Hitherto  shalt  thou  go,  but  no 
further." 

Looking  at  this  remarkable  phenomenon  of  the  conversion 
of  whole  multitudes  at  once,  not  from  its  Divine  but  from  its 
human  aspect,  that  is,  with  reference  to  that  provision  that 
God  himself  has  made  in  human  nature  for  the  execution 
of  his  will,  the  first  cause  to  which  we  are  naturally  led  to 
attribute  it,  is  the  power  of  sympathy.  "Why  it  is  that  men 
ever  act  together  is  a  mystery  of  which  our  individual  self- 
consciousness  gives  no  account,  any  more  than  why  we  speak 
a  common  language,  or  form  nations  or  societies,  or  merely  in 
our  physical  nature  are  capable  of  taking  diseases  from  one 
another.  Nature  and  the  God  of  nature  have  made  us  thus 
dependent  on  each  other  both  in  body  and  soul.  Whoever 
has  seen  human  beings  collected  together  in  masses,  and 
watched  the  movements  that  pass  over  them,  like  "  the  trees 
of  the  forest  moving  in  the  wind,"  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
imagining,  if  not  in  understanding,  how  the  same  voice  might 
have  found  its  way  at  the  same  instant  to  a  thousand  hearts, 
without  our  being  able  to  say  where  the  fire  was  first  kindled, 
or  by  whom  the  inspiration  was  first  caught.  Such  historical 
events  as  the  Reformation,  or  the  Crusades,  or  the  French 
Revolution,  are  a  sufficient  evidence  that  a  whole  people,  or 
almost,  we  may  say,  half  a  world,  may  be  "  drunk  into  one 
spirit,"  springing  up,  as  it  might  seem,  spontaneously  in  the 
breast  of  each,  yet  common  to  all.  A  parallel  yet  nearer  is 
furnished  by  the  history'  of  the  Jewish  people,  in  whose  sudden 


280    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

rebellion,  and  restoration  to  God's  favor,  we  recognize  literally 
the  momentaiy  workings  of,  what  is  to  ourselves  a  figure  of 
speech,  a  national  conscience. 

In  ordinary  cases  we  should  truly  say  that  there  must  have 
been  some  predisposing  cause  of  a  great  political  or  religious 
revolution  ;  some  latent  elements  acting  alike  upon  all,  which, 
though  long  smouldering  beneath,  burst  forth  at  last  into  a 
flame.  Such  a  cause  might  be  the  misery  of  mankind,  or  the 
intense  corruption  of  human  society,  which  could  not  be 
quickened  except  it  die,  or  the  long-suppressed  yearnings  of 
the  soul  after  something  higher  than  it  had  hitherto  known 
upon  earth,  or  the  reflected  light  of  one  religion  or  one  move- 
ment of  the  human  mind  upon  another.  Such  causes  were 
actually  at  work,  preparing  the  way  for  the  diffusion  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  law  itself  was  beginning  to  pass  away  in  an 
altered  world,  the  state  of  society  was  hollow,  the  chosen 
people  were  hopelessly  under  the  Roman  yoke.  Good  men 
refi-ained  from  the  wild  attempt  of  the  Galilean  Judas ;  yet 
the  spirit  which  animated  such  attempts  was  slumbering  in 
their  bosoms.  Looking  back  at  their  own  past  history,  they 
could  not  but  remember,  even  in  an  altered  world,  that  there 
was  one  who  ruled  among  the  kingdoms  of  men,  "beside 
whom  there  was  no  God."  Were  they  to  suppose  that  his 
arm  was  straitened  to  save  ?  that  he  had  forgotten  his  tender 
mercies  to  the  house  of  David  ?  that  the  aspirations  of  the 
prophets  were  vain  ?  that  the  blood  of  the  Maccabean  heroes 
had  sunk  like  water  into  the  earth  ?  This  was  a  hard  saying; 
who  could  bear  it  ?  It  was  long  ere  the  nation,  like  the  in- 
dividual, put  ofl*  the  old  man,  that  is,  the  temponil  dispensa- 
tion, and  put  on  the  new  man,  that  is,  the  spiritual  IsraeL 
The  very  misery  of  the  people  seemed  to  forbid  them  to 
acquiesce  in  their  present  state.  And  with  the  miserable 
condition  of  the  nation  sprang  up  also  the  feeling,  not  only 
in  individuals,  but  in  tiie  race,  that  for  their  sins  they  were 
chastened,  the  feeling  which  their  whole  histoi-y  seemed  to 
deepen  and  inci*ease.  At  last  the  scales  fell  from  their  eyes: 
the  veil  that  was  on   the   face   of  Moses,  was  first  trans* 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    281 

figured  before  them,  tlien  removed ;  the  thoughts  of  many 
hearts  turned  simultaneously  to  the  hope  of  Israel,  "  Him 
whom  the  law  and  the  prophets  foretold."  As  they  listened 
to  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles,  they  seemed  to  hear  a  truth 
both  new  and  old  ;  what  many  had  thought,  but  none  had 
uttered ;  which  in  its  comfort  and  joyousness  seemed  to  them 
new,  and  yet,  from  its  familiarity  and  suitableness  to  their 
condition,  not  the  less  old. 

Spiritual  life,  no  less  than  natural  life,  is  often  the  very 
opposite  of  the  elements  which  seem  to  give  birth  to  it.  The 
preparation  for  the  way  of  the  Lord,  which  John  the  Baptist 
preached,  did  not  consist  in  a  direct  reference  to  the  Saviour. 
The  words  "  He  shall  baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
with  fire,"  and  "He  shall  burn  up  the  chaff  with  fire  un- 
quenchable," could  have  given  the  Jews  no  exact  conception 
of  Him  who  "  did  not  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the 
smoking  flax."  It  was  in  another  way  that  John  prepared  for 
Christ,  by  quickening  the  moral  sense  of  the  people,  and 
sounding  in  their  ears  the  voice,  "  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand."  Beyond  this  useful  lesson,  there  was  a  kind 
of  vacancy  in  the  preaching  of  John.  He  himself,  as  "  he  was 
finishing  his  course,"  testified  that  his  work  was  incomplete, 
an«l  that  he  was  not  the  Christ.  The  Jewish  people  were 
prepared  by  his  preaching  for  the  coming  of  Christ,  just  as 
an  individual  might  be  prepared  to  receive  him  by  the  con- 
viction of  sin,  and  the  conscious  need  of  forgiveness. 

Except  from  the  Gospel  history  and  the  writings  of  Jose- 
phus  and  Philo,  we  know  but  little  of  the  tendencies  of  the 
Jewish  mind  in  the  time  of  our  Lord.  Yet  we  cannot  doubt 
that  the  entrance  of  Christianity  into  the  world  was  not  sud- 
den and  abrupt ;  that  is  an  illusion  which  arises  in  the  mind 
from  our  slender  acquaintance  with  contemporary  opinions. 
Better  and  higher  and  holier  as  it  was,  it  was  not  absolutely 
distinct  from  the  teaching  of  the  doctoi-s  of  the  law  either  in 
form  or  substance  ;  it  was  not  unconnected  with,  but  gave 
life  and  truth  to,  the  mystic  fancies  of  Alexandrian  philoso 
phy.  Even  in  the  counsels  of  perfection  of  the  Sermon  on 
24* 


282    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

the  Mount,  there  is  probably  nothing  which  might  not  be 
found,  either  in  letter  or  spirit,  in  Philo  or  some  other  Jewish 
or  Eastern  writer.  The  peculiarity  of  the  Gospel  is,  not  that 
it  teaches  what  is  wholly  new,  but  that  it  draws  out  of  the 
treasure-house  of  the  human  heart  things  new  and  old,  gath- 
ering together  in  one  the  dispersed  fragments  of  the  truth. 
The  common  people  would  not  have  "  heard  him  gladly,"  but 
for  the  truth  of  what  He  said.  The  heart  was  its  own  wit- 
ness to  it.  The  better  nature  of  man,  though  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, responded  to  it,  spoken  as  it  was  with  authority,  and 
not  as  the  Scribes;  with  simplicity,  and  not  as  the  great 
teachers  of  the  law ;  and  sanctified  by  the  hfe  and  actions  of 
Him  from  whose  lips  it  came,  and  "  who  spake  as  never 
man  spake." 

And  yet,  after  reviewing  the  circumstances  of  the  first 
preaching  of  the  Gospel,  there  remains  something  which 
cannot  be  resolved  into  causes  or  antecedents ;  which  eludes 
criticism,  and  can  no  more  be  explained  in  the  world  than 
the  sudden  changes  of  character  in  the  individual.  There  are 
processes  of  life  and  organization  about  which  we  know  noth- 
ing, and  we  seem  to  know  that  we  shall  never  know  anything. 
"  That  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened,  except  it  die  " ; 
but  the  mechanism  of  this  new  life  is  too  complex,  and  yet 
too  simple  for  us  to  untwist  its  fibres.  The  figure  which  St, 
Paul  applies  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  is  true  also  of 
the  renewal  of  the  soul,  especially  in  the  first  ages,  of  which 
we  know  so  little,  and  in  which  the  Gospel  seems  to  have 
acted  with  such  far  greater  power  than  among  ourselves. 

Leaving  further  inquiry  into  the  conversion  of  the  first 
Christians  at  the  point  at  which  it  hides  itself  from  us  in 
mystery,  we  have  now  to  turn  to  a  question  hardly  less  mys- 
terious, though  seemingly  more  familiar  to  us,  which  may  be 
regarded  as  a  question  either  of  moral  philosophy  or  of  thcol* 
ogy,  —  the  nature  of  conversion  and  chiuiges  of  character 
among  ourselves.  What  traces  are  there  of  a  spiritual  power 
still  acting  upon  the  human  heart?  What  is  the  inward 
nature,  and  what  are  the  outward  conditions  of  changes  in 


CONVERSION   AND    CHANGES    OF    CHARACTER.  283 

human  conduct  ?  Is  our  life  a  gradual  and  insensible  progress 
from  infancy  to  age,  from  birth  to  death,  governed  by  fixed 
laws  ;  or  is  it  a  miracle  and  mystery  of  thirty,  or  fifty,  or 
seventy  years'  standing,  consisting  of  so  many  isolated  actions 
or  portions  knit  together  by  no  common  principle  ? 

Were  we  to  consider  mankind  only  from  without,  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  the  answer  which  we  should  give  to  the 
last  of  these  questions.  The  order  of  the  world  would 
scarcely  even  seem  to  be  infringed  by  the  free-will  of  man. 
In  morals,  no  less  than  in  physics,  everything  would  appear 
to  proceed  by  regular  law.  Individuals  have  certain  capaci- 
ties, which  grow  with  their  growth  and  strengthen  with  their 
strength ;  and  no  pne  by  taking  thought  can  add  one  cubit  to 
his  stature.  As  the  old  proverb  says,  "  The  boy  is  father  to 
the  man."  The  lives  of  the  great  majority  have  a  sort  of 
continuity :  as  we  know  them  by  the  same  look,  walk,  man- 
ner ;  so  when  we  come  to  converse  with  them,  we  recognize 
the  same  character  as  formerly.  They  may  be  changed; 
but  the  change  in  general  is  such  as  we  expect  to  find  in  them 
from  youth  to  maturity,  or  from  maturity  to  decay.  There 
is  something  which  they  do  not  change,  by  which  we  perceive 
them  to  be  the  same.  If  they  were  weak,  they  remain  so 
still ;  if  they  were  sensitive,  they  remain  so  still ;  if  they 
were  selfish  or  passionate,  such  faults  are  seldom  cured  by 
increasing  age  or  infirmities.  And  often  the  same  nature 
puts  on  many  veils  and  disguises,  different  indeed  on  the 
surface,  but  within  unchanged. 

The  appearance  of  this  sameness  in  human  nature  has 
led  many  to  suppose  that  no  real  change  ever  takes  place. 
Does  a  man  from  a  drunkard  become  sober  ?  from  a  knight 
errant  become  a  devotee  ?  from  a  sensualist  a  believer  in 
Christ  ?  or  a  woman  from  a  life  of  pleasure  pass  to  a  romantic 
and  devoted  religion  ?  It  has  been  maintained  that  they  are 
the  same  still ;  and  that  deeper  similarities  remain  than  the 
differences  which  have  sprung  up  on  the  surface.  Those 
who  make  the  remark  would  say,  that  such  persons  exhibit 
the  same  vanity,  the  same  irritability,  the  same  ambition; 


284    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

that  sensualism  still  lurks  under  the  disguise  of  refinement, 
or  earthly  and  human  passion  transfuses  itself  into  devo- 
tion. 

This  "  practical  fatalism,"  which  says  that  human  beings 
can  be  what  they  are  and  nothing  else,  has  a  certain  degree 
of  truth,  or  rather,  of  plausibility,  from  the  circumstance  that 
men  seldom  change  wholly,  and  that  the  part  of  their  nature 
which  changes  least  is  the  weakness  and  infirmity  that  shows 
itself  on  the  surface.  Few,  cx)mparatively,  ever  change  their 
outward  manner,  except  from  the  mere  result  of  altered  cir- 
cumstances ;  and  hence,  to  a  supei-ficial  observer,  they  appear 
to  change  less  than  is  really  the  fact  Probably,  St.  Paul 
never  lost  that  trembling  and  feebleness  which  was  one  of 
the  trials  of  his  life.  Nor,  in  so  far  as  states  of  the  mind 
are  connected  with  the  body,  can  we  pretend  to  be  wholly 
free  agents.  The  mind  does  indeed  rule  the  body,  but  in  a 
subtle  and  mysterious  way,  as  it  were  by  predisposing  it  to  a 
particular  course  of  action  The  body  may  enslave  the 
mind :  it  is  the  image  of  freedom,  not  of  slavery,  which 
expresses  the  relation  of  the  mind  to  the  body. 

If  from  this  external  aspect  of  human  things  we  turn  in- 
ward, there  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  the  changes  which  we 
deem  possible.  At  any  moment  we  can  form  the  resolution 
to  lead  a  new  life ;  in  idea  at  least  no  time  is  required  for 
the  change.  One  instant  we  may  be  proud,  the  next  humble  ; 
one  instant  sinning,  at  the  next  repenting ;  one  instant,  like 
St.  Paul,  ready  to  persecute,  at  another,  to  preach  the  Gk)s- 
pel ;  full  of  malice  and  hatred  one  hour,  melting  into  tender- 
ness the  next.  As  we  hear  the  words  of  the  preacher,  there 
is  a  voice  within  telling  us,  that  "  now,  even  now,  is  the  day 
of  salvation  " ;  and  if  certain  clogs  and  hinderances  of  earth 
could  only  be  removed,  we  seem  ready  to  pass  immediately 
into  another  state.  But  besides  such  feelings  as  these,  which 
we  know  to  b?  partly  true,  partly  illusive,  every  one's  ex- 
[>enenec  of  himself  appears  to  teach  him,  tliat  he  has  gone 
through  many  changes  and  had  many  special  providences  in 
life ;  he  says  to  himself  that  he  has  been  led  in  a  raysteriouA 


CONVERSION   AND    CHANGES    OF    CHARACTER.         285 

and  peculiar  way,  not  like  the  way  of  other  men,  and  had 
feelings  not  common  to  others  ;  he  compares  different  times 
and  places,  and  contrasts  his  own  conduct  here  and  there, 
now  and  then.  In  other  men  he  remarks  similarity  of  char*- 
acter ;  in  himself  he  sees  chiefly  diversity.  Other  men  seem 
to  move  by  regular  rule  and  order,  while  his  own  actions  are 
instinct  with  will  and  life.  Is  he  then  the  only  exception,  or 
do  other  men  appear  to  themselves  to  be  exceptions  too  ? 

Common  sense,  of  course,  replies,  that  what  our  inward 
experience  assures  us  of,  every  other  person  of  the  same 
reflection  and  sensibility  is  assured  of  too.  And  yet  it  does 
not  follow,  that  this  inward  fact  is  to  be  set  aside  as  the  result 
of  egotism  and  self-consciousness.  It  may  be  not  merely  the 
dreamy  reflection  of  our  life  and  actions  in  the  mirror  of  self, 
but  the  subtle  and  delicate  spring  of  the  whole  machine.  To 
purify  the  feelings  or  to  move  the  will,  the  first  sense  may  be 
as  necessary  to  us  as  the  second  is  to  regulate  and  sustain 
them.  Even  to  the  formula  of  the  fatalist,  that  "  freedom  is 
the  consciousness  of  necessity,"  it  may  be  replied,  that  that 
very  consciousness,  as  he  terms  it,  is  as  essential  as  any  other 
link  in  the  chain  in  which  "  he  binds  fast  the  world."  With- 
out touching  further  on  the  metaphysical  question  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  will,  we  will  proceed  to  consider  some  practical 
aspects  of  this  supposed  regularity  or  irregularity  in  human 
conduct. 

For  the  doctrine  of  conversion,  the  moralist  substitutes 
the  theory  of  habits.  Good  actions,  he  says,  produce  good 
habits ;  and  the  repetition  of  good  actions  makes  them  easier 
to  perform,  and  "  fortifies  us  indefinitely  against  temptation.** 
There  are  bodily  and  mental  habits,  —  habits  of  reflection, 
and  habits  of  action.  Practice  gives  skill  or  sleight  of  hand ; 
constant  attention,  the  faculty  of  abstraction  ;  so  the  practice 
of  virtue  makes  us  virtuous,  that  of  vice,  vicious.  The  more 
meat  we  eat,  to  use  the  illustration  of  Aristotle,  in  whom  we 
find  a  cruder  form  of  the  same  theory,  the  more  we  are  able 
to  eat  meat ;  the  more  we  wrestle,  the  more  able  we  are  to 
wrestle ;  and  so  forth.    If  a  person  has  some  duty  to  perform. 


286    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

say  of  common  and  trivial  sort,  to  rise  at  a  particular  hour  in 
the  morning,  to  be  at  a  particular  place  at  such  an  hour,  to 
conform  to  some  rule  about  abstinence,  we  tell  him  that  he 
will  find  the  first  occasion  difficult,  the  second  easj,  and  the 
diffiL'ulty  is  supposed  to  vanish  by  degrees  until  it  wholly 
disappears.  If  a  man  has  to  march  into  a  battle,  or  to  per- 
form a  surgical  operation,  or  to  do  anything  else  from  which 
human  nature  shrinks,  his  nerves,  we  say,  are  gradually 
strengthened ;  his  head,  as  was  said  of  a  famous  soldier, 
clears  up  at  the  sound  of  the  cannon ;  like  the  gravedigger  in 
Hamlet,  he  has  soon  no  "  feeling  of  his  occupation." 

From  a  consideration  of  such  instances  as  these  the  rule 
has  been  laid  down,  that  "  as  the  passive  impression  weakens, 
the  active  habit  strengthens."  But  is  not  this  saying  of  a 
great  man  founded  on  a  narrow  and  partial  contemplation  of 
human  nature  ?  For,  in  the  first  place,  it  leaves  altogether 
out  of  sight  the  motives  of  human  action ;  it  is  equally  suited 
to  the  most  rigid  formalist,  and  to  a  moral  and  spiritual  being. 
Secondly,  it  takes  no  account  of  the  limitation  of  the  power 
of  habits,  which,  neither  in  mind  nor  body,  can  be  extended 
beyond  a  certain  point ;  nor  of  the  original  capacity  or  pecu- 
liar character  of  individuals ;  nor  of  the  different  kinds  of 
habits,  nor  of  the  degrees  of  strength  and  weakness  in  differ- 
ent minds ;  nor  of  the  enormous  difference  between  youth 
and  age,  childhood  and  manhood,  in  the  capacity  for  acquiring 
habits.  Old  age  does  not  move  with  accumulated  force,  either 
upwards  or  downwards ;  they  are  the  lesser  habits,  not  the 
great  springs  of  life,  that  show  themselves  in  it  with  in- 
creased i)ower.  Nor  can  the  man  who  has  neglected  to  form 
habits  in  youth,  acquire  them  in  mature  life ;  like  the  body, 
the  mind  ceases  to  be  capable  of  receiving  a  particular  form. 
Lastly,  such  a  description  of  human  nature  agrees  with  no 
xnan*s  account  of  himself;  whatever  moralists  may  say,  he 
knows  himself  to  be  a  spiritual  being.  "The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,"  and  he  cannot  "  tell  whence  it  cometh,  or 
whilher  it  goeth." 

Ail  that  is  true  in  the  theory  of  habits  seems  to  be  implied 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    287 

in  the  notion  of  order  or  regularity.  Even  this  is  inadequate 
to  give  a  conception  of  the  structure  of  human  beings.  Order 
is  the  beginning,  but  freedom  is  the  perfection,  of  our  moral 
nature.  Men  do  not  live  at  random,  or  act  one  instant  with- 
out reference  to  their  actions  just  before.  And  in  youth 
especially,  the  very  sameness  of  our  occupations  is  a  sort  of 
stay  and  support  to  us,  as  in  age  it  may  be  described  as 
a  kind  of  rest.  But  no  one  will  say  that  the  mere  repe- 
tition of  actions  until  they  constitute  a  habit,  gives  any  ex- 
planation of  the  higher  and  nobler  forms  of  human  virtue,  or 
the  finer  moulds  of  character.  Life  cannot  be  explained  as 
the  working  of  a  mere  machine,  still  less  can  moral  or 
spiritual  hfe  be  reduced  to  merely  mechanical  laws. 

But  if,  while  acknowledging  that  a  great  proportion  of  man- 
kind are  the  creatures  of  habit,  and  that  a  great  part  of  our 
actions  are  nothing  more  than  the  result  of  habit,  we  go  on 
to  ask  ourselves  about  the  changes  of  our  life,  and  fix  our 
minds  on  the  critical  points,  we  are  led  to  view  human  nature, 
not  only  in  a  wider  and  more  liberal  spirit,  but  also  in  a 
way  more  accordant  with  the  language  of  Scripture.  We  no 
longer  measure  ourselves  by  days  or  by  weeks  ;  we  are  con- 
scious that  at  particular  times  we  have  undergone  great  revo- 
lutions or  emotions  ;  and  then,  again,  have  intervened  periods 
lasting  perhaps  for  years,  in  which  we  have  pursued  the  even 
current  of  our  way.  Our  progress  towards  good  may  have 
been  in  idea  an  imperceptible  and  regular  advance ;  in  fact, 
we  know  it  to  have  been  otherwise.  We  have  taken  plunges 
in  life ;  there  are  many  eras  noted  in  our  existence.  The 
greatest  changes  are  those  of  which  we  are  the  least  able  to 
give  an  account,  and  which  we  feel  the  most  disposed  to  refer 
to  a  superior  power.  That  they  were  simply  mysterious,  like 
some  utterly  unknown  natural  phenomena,  is  our  first  thought 
about  them.  But  although  unable  to  fathom  their  true  na- 
ture, we  are  capable  of  analyzing  many  of  the  circumstances 
which  accompany  them,  and  of  observing  the  impulses  out 
of  which  they  arise. 

Every  man  has  the   power  of  forming  a  resolution,  or, 


^88    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

without  previous  resolution,  in  any  particular  instance,  acting 
as  he  will.  As  thoughts  come  into  the  mind  one  cannot  tell 
how,  so  too  motives  spring  up,  without  our  being  able  to  trace 
their  origin.  Why  we  suddenly  see  a  thing  in  a  new  light, 
is  often  hard  to  explain  ;  why  we  feel  an  action  to  be  right  or 
wrong  which  has  previously  seemed  indifferent,  is  not  less 
inexplicable.  We  fix  the  passing  dream  or  sentiment  in 
action ;  the  thought  is  nothing,  the  deed  may  be  everything. 
That  day  after  day,  to  use  a  familiar  instance,  the  drunkard 
will  find  abstinence  easier,  is  probably  untrue  ;  but  that  from 
once  abstaining  he  will  gain  a  fresh  experience,  and  receive  a 
new  strength  and  inward  satisfaction,  which  may  result  in 
endless  consequences,  is  what  every  one  is  aware  of.  It  is 
not  the  sameness  of  what  we  do,  but  its  novelty,  which  seems 
to  have  such  a  peculiar  power  over  us ;  not  the  repetition  of 
many  blind  actions,  but  the  performance  of  a  single  conscious 
one,  that  is  the  birth  to  a  new  life.  Indeed,  the  very  same- 
ness of  actions  is  often  accompanied  with  a  sort  of  weariness, 
which  makes  men  desirous  of  change. 

Nor  is  it  less  true,  that  by  the  commission,  not  of  many, 
but  a  single  act  of  vice  or  crime,  an  inroad  is  made  into  our 
whole  moral  constitution,  which  is  not  proportionably  in- 
creased by  its  repetition.  The  first  act  of  theft,  falsehood,  or 
other  immorality,  is  an  event  in  the  life  of  the  perpetrator 
which  he  never  forgets.  It  may  often  happen  that  no  ao 
<X)unt  can  be  given  of  it;  that  there  is  nothing  in  the 
education,  nor  in  the  antecedents  of  the  person,  that  would 
lead  us,  or  even  himself,  to  suspect  it.  In  the  weaker  sort 
of  persons  especially,  suggestions  of  evil  spring  up  we  cannot 
tell  how.  Human  beings  are  the  creatures  of  habit;  but 
they  are  the  creatures  of  impulse  too ;  and  from  the  gniater 
variableness  of  the  outward  circumstances  of  life,  and  espe- 
cially of  particular  periods  of  life,  and  the  greater  freedom 
of  individuals  it  may,  perhaps,  be  found  that  human  actions, 
though  less  liable  to  wide-spread  or  sudden  changes,  have 
also  become  more  capricious,  and  less  reducible  to  simple 
causes,  than  formerly.  ^  .  . 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    289 

Clianges  in  character  come  more  often  in  the  form  of  feeling 
than  of  reason,  from  some  new  affection  or  attachment,  or 
ahenation  of  our  former  self,  rather  than  from  the  slow 
gi'owth  of  experience,  or  a  deliberate  sense  of  right  and 
duty.  The  meeting  with  some  particular  person,  the  remem- 
brance of  some  particular  scene,  the  last  words  of  a  parent 
or  friend,  the  reading  of  a  sentence  in  a  book,  may  call  forth 
a  world  within  us  of  the  very  existence  of  which  we  were 
previously  unconscious.  New  interests  arise  such  as  we 
never  before  knew,  and  we  can  no  longer  lie  grovelling  in  the 
mire,  but  must  be  up  and  doing ;  new  affections  seem  to  be 
drawn  out,  such  as  warm  our  inmost  soul  and  make  action 
and  exertion  a  delight  to  us.  Mere  human  love  at  first  sight, 
as  we  say,  has  been  known  to  change  the  whole  character  and 
produce  an  earthly  effect,  analogous  to  that  heavenly  love  of 
Christ  and  the  brethren,  of  which  the  New  Testament  speaks. 
Have  we  not  seen  the  passionate  become  calm,  the  hcentious 
pure,  the  weak  strong,  the  scoffer  devout?  We  may  not 
venture  to  say  with  St.  Paul,  "  This  is  a  great  mystery,  but 
I  speak  concerning  Christ  and  the  Church."  But  such  in- 
stances serve,  at  least,  to  quicken  our  sense  of  the  depth  and 
subtlety  of  human  nature. 

Of  many  of  these  changes  no  other  reason  can  be  given 
than  that  nature  and  the  God  of  nature  have  made  men 
capable  of  them.  There  are  others,  again,  which  we  seem  to 
trace,  not  only  to  particular  times,  but  to  definite  actions, 
from  which  they  flow  in  the  same  manner  that  other  effects 
follow  from  their  causes.  Among  such  causes  none  are  more 
powerful  than  acts  of  self-sacrifice  and  devotion.  A  single 
deed  of  heroism  makes  a  man  a  hero ;  it  becomes  a  part  of 
him,  and,  strengthened  by  the  approbation  and  sympathy  of 
his  fellow-men,  a  sort  of  power  which  he  gains  over  himself 
and  them.  Something  like  this  is  true  of  the  lesser  occasions 
of  life  no  less  than  of  the  greatest ;  provided  in  either  case 
they  are  not  of  such  a  kind  that  the  performance  of  them  ig 
a  mere  violence  to  our  nature.  Many  a  one  has  stretched 
himself  on  the  rack  of  asceticism,  without  on  the  whole 
25 


290    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

1-aising  his  nature;  often  he  has  seemed  to  have  gained  in 
self-control  only  what  he  has  lost  in  the  kindlier  affections, 
an  J  by  his  very  isolation  to  have  wasted  the  opportunities 
which  nature  offered  him  of  self-improvement.  But  no  one 
with  a  heart  open  to  human  feelings,  loving  not  man  the  less, 
but  God  more,  sensitive  to  the  happiness  of  this  world,  yet 
aiming  at  a  higher,  —  no  man  of  such  a  nature  ever  made  a 
great  sacrifice,  or  performed  a  great  act  of  self-denial,  with- 
out impressing  a  change  on  his  character,  which  lasted  to  his 
latest  breath.  No  man  ever  took  his  besetting  sin,  it  may  be 
lust,  or  pride,  or  love  of  rank  and  position,  and,  as  it  were, 
cut  it  out  by  voluntarily  placing  himself  where  to  gratify  it 
was  impossible,  without  sensibly  receiving  a  new  strength  of 
character.  In  one  day,  almost  in  an  hour,  he  may  become  an 
altered  man  ;  he  may  stand,  as  it  were,  on  a  different  stage 
of  moral  and  religious  life ;  he  may  feel  himself  in  new  rela- 
tions to  an  altered  world. 

Nor,  in  considering  the  effects  of  action,  must  the  influence 
of  impressions  be  lost  sight  of.  Grood  resolutions  are  apt  to 
have  a  bad  name ;  they  have  come  to  be  almost  synonymous 
with  the  absence  of  good  actions.  As  they  get  older,  men 
deem  it  a  kind  of  weakness  to  be  guilty  of  making  them  ;  so 
often  do  they  end  in  raising  "  pictures  of  virtue,  or  going  over 
the  theory  of  virtue  in  our  minds."  Yet  this  contrast  be- 
tween passive  impression  and  active  habit,  is  hardly  justified 
by  our  experience  of  ourselves  or  others.  Valueless  as  they 
are  in  themselves,  good  resolutions  are  suggestive  of  great 
good ;  they  are  seldom  wholly  without  influence  on  our  con- 
duct; in  the  weakest  of  men  they  are  still  the  embryo  of 
action.  They  may  meet  with  a  concurrence  of  circumstiinces 
in  which  they  seem  to  grow  spontaneously,  coinciding  with 
some  change  of  place,  or  of  pursuits,  or  of  companions,  or  of 
natural  constitution,  in  which  they  acquire  a  double  power. 
They  are  the  opportunities  of  virtue,  if  not  virtue  itself.  At 
the  worst  they  make  us  think  ;  they  give  us  an  experience  of 
ourselves ;  they  prevent  our  passing  our  lives  in  total  uncon- 
sciousness.   A  man  may  go  on  all  his  life  making  and  not 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    291 

keeping  them ;  miserable  as  such  a  state  appears,  he  is  per- 
haps not  the  worse,  but  something  the  better,  for  them.  The 
voice  of  the  preacher  is  not  lost,  even  if  he  succeed  but  for  a 
few  instants  in  awakening  them. 

A  further  cause  of  sudden  changes  in  the  moral  constitution 
is  the  determination  of  the  will  by  reason  and  knowledge. 
Suppose  the  case  of  a  person  living  in  a  narrow  circle  of 
ideas,  within  the  limits  of  his  early  education,  perplexed  by 
innumerable  difficulties,  yet  never  venturing  beyond  the  wall 
of  prejudices  in  which  he  has  been  brought  up.  A  new  view 
of  his  relation  to  the  world,  and  to  God,  is  suddenly  pre- 
sented to  him ;  such,  for  example,  as  in  St.  Paul's  day  was 
the  grand  acknowledgment  that  God  was  not  the  God  of  the 
Jews  only,  but  also  of  the  Gentiles  ;  such  as  in  our  own  age 
would  be  the  clear  perception  of  the  moral  nature  of  God, 
and  of  his  infinite  truth  and  justice.  He  is  convinced,  not 
only  of  the  supernatural  character,  but  of  the  reasonableness, 
of  religion,  and  it  becomes  to  him  at  once  a  self-imposed  law. 
No  longer  does  the  human  heart  seem  to  rebel ;  no  longer 
has  he  "  to  pose  his  understanding  "  with  that  odd  resolution 
of  Tertullian,  "  certum  quia  impossibile."  He  perceives  that 
the  perplexities  of  religion  have  been  made,  not  by  the  ap- 
pointment of  God,  but  by  the  ingenuity  of  man. 

Lastly.  Among  those  influences,  by  the  help  of  which  the 
will  of  man  seems  to  disengage  itself  from  the  power  of  habit, 
must  not  be  omitted  the  influence  of  circumstances.  If  men 
are  creatures  of  habit,  much  more  are  they  creatures  of  cir- 
cumstances. These  two,  nature  without  us,  and  "  the  second 
nature  "  that  is  within,  are  the  counterbalancing  forces  of  our 
being.  Between  them  (so  we  may  figure  to  ourselves  the 
working  of  the  mind)  the  human  will  inserts  itself,  making  the 
force  of  one  a  lever  against  the  other,  and  seeming  to  rule 
both.  We  fall  under  the  power  of  habit,  and  feel  ourselves 
weak  and  powerless  to  shake  off  the  almost  physical  influence 
which  it  exerts  upon  us.  The  enfeebled  frame  cannot  rid 
itself  of  the  malady ;  the  palsied  springs  of  action  cannot  be 
strengthened  for  good,  nor  fortified  against  evil.   Transplanted 


292    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER. 

into  another  soil,  and  in  a  different  air,  we  renew  our  strength. 
In  youth  especially,  the  character  seems  to  respond  kindly  to 
the  influence  of  the  external  world.  Nature  and  the  God  of  na* 
ture  have  given  us  many  aids  in  the  battle  M'ith  self,  the  great- 
est of  which,  humanly  speaking,  is  change  of  circumstances. 


We  have  wandered  far  from  the  subject  of  conversion  in 
tlie  early  Church,  into  another  sphere  in  which  the  words 
"grace,  faith,  the  spirit,"  have  disappeared,  and  notions  of 
moral  philosophy  have  taken  their  place.  It  is  better,  per- 
haps, that  the  attempt  to  analyze  our  spiritual  nature  should 
assume  this  abstract  form.  We  feel  that  words  cannot  ex- 
press the  life  hidden  with  Christ  in  God ;  we  are  afraid  of 
declaring  on  the  housetop,  what  may  only  be  spoken  in  the 
closet.  If  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  elder  dispensation, 
which  have  so  little  11  them  of  a  spiritual  character,  were  a 
figure  of  the  true,  much  more  may  the  moral  world  be 
regarded  as  a  figure  of  the  spiritual  world  of  which  religion 
speaks  to  us. 

There  is  a  view  of  the  changes  of  the  characters  of  men 
which  begins  where  this  ends,  which  reads  human  nature  by 
a  different  light,  and  speaks  of  it  as  the  seat  of  a  great  struggle 
between  the  powers  of  good  and  evil.  It  would  be  untnie  to 
identify  this  view  with  that  which  has  preceded,  and  scarcely 
less  untrue  to  attempt  to  interweave  the  two  in  a  system  ot 
"moral  theology."  No  addition  of  theological  terms  will 
transfigure  Aristotle's  Ethics  into  a  "  Summa  Theologiie.** 
When  St.  Paul  says,  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall 
deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  "  "I  thank  God 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord";  he  is  not  speaking  the 
language  of  moral  philosophy,  but  of  religious  feeling.  He 
expresses  what  few  have  truly  felt  concentrated  in  a  single 
instant,  what  many  have  deluded  themselve^^  into  the  bel/ef 
of,  what  some  have  experienced  accompanying  them  through 
life,  what  a  great  portion  even  of  the  better  sort  of  miuikind 
are  wholly  unconscious  of.  It  seems  af  if  Providence  allowed 
U8  to  n*gard  the  truths  of  religion  and  morality  in  many  ways 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    293 

wLich  are  not  wholly  unconnected  with  each  other,  yet 
parallel  rather  than  intersecting ;  providing  for  the  varieties 
of  human  character,  and  not  leaving  those  altogether  without 
law,  who  are  incapable  in  a  world  of  sight  of  entering  within 
the  veil. 

As  we  return  to  that  "  hidden  life  "  of  which  the  Scripture 
speaks,  our  analysis  of  human  nature  seems  to  become  more 
imperfect,  less  reducible  to  rule  or  measure,  less  capable  of 
being  described  in  a  language  which  all  men  understand. 
What  the  believer  recognizes  as  the  record  of  his  experience 
is  apt  to  seem  mystical  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  We  do  not 
seek  to  thread  the  mazes  of  the  human  soul,  or  to  draw  forth 
to  the  light  its  hidden  communion  with  its  Maker,  but  only  to 
present  in  general  outline  the  power  of  religion  among  other 
causes  of  human  action. 

Directly,  religious  influences  may  be  summed  up  under 
three  heads :  The  power  of  God ;  the  love  of  Christ ;  the 
efficacy  of  prayer. 

(1.)  So  far  as  the  influence  of  the  first  of  these  is  capa- 
ble of  analysis,  it  consists  in  the  practical  sense  that  we  are 
dependent  beings,  and  that  our  souls  are  in  the  hands  of 
God,  who  is  acting  through  us,  and  ever  present  with  us  in 
the  trials  of  life  and  in  the  work  of  life.  The  believer  is  a 
minister  who  executes  this  work,  hardly  the  partner  in  it ;  it 
is  not  his  own,  but  God's.  He  does  it  with  the  greatest  care, 
as  unto  the  Lord  and  not  to  men,  yet  is  indifferent  as  to  the 
result,  knowing  that  all  things,  even  through  his  imperfect 
agency,  are  working  together  for  good.  The  attitude  of  his 
soul  towards  God  is  such  as  to  produce  the  strongest  effects 
on  his  power  of  action.  It  leaves  his  faculties  clear  and 
unimpassioned ;  it  raises  him  into  communion  with  nature  and 
God ;  it  places  him  above  accidents ;  it  perfects  strength  in 
weakness.  It  gives  the  assurance  of  a  real  and  present 
possession  of  all  things,  as  St.  Paul  says :  "  All  things  are 
ours,  whether  life  or  death,  or  things  present  or  things  to 
come."  It  is  the  source  of  power  and  freedom.  It  affords 
the  perfect  peace  of  a  soul  stayed  on  God. 
25* 


294    CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OP  CHARACTEK. 

In  merely  human  things,  the  aid  and  sympathy  of  others 
increase  our  power  to  act :  it  is  also  the  fact,  we  can  work 
more  effectually  and  think  more  truly,  where  the  issue  is  not 
striked  on  the  result  of  our  thought  and  work.  The  confi- 
dence of  success  would  be  more  than  half  the  secret  of  suc- 
cess, did  it  not  also  lead  to  the  relaxation  of  our  efforts. 
But  in  the  life  of  the  believer,  the  sympathy,  if  such  a  figure 
of  speech  may  be  allowed,  is  not  human,  but  Divine ;  the 
confidence  is  not  a  confidence  in  ourselves,  but  in  the  power 
of  God,  which  at  once  takes  us  out  of  ourselves  and  increases 
our  obligation  to  exertion.  The  instances  just  mentioned 
have  an  analogy,  though  but  a  faint  one,  with  that  which  we 
are  considering.  They  are  shadows  of  the  support  we  re- 
ceive from  the  Infinite  and  Everlasting.  As  the  philosopher 
said  that  his  theory  of  fatalism  was  absolutely  required  to 
insure  the  repose  necessary  for  moral  action,  it  may  be  said, 
in  a  far  higher  sense,  that  the  consciousness  of  a  Divine 
Providence  is  necessary  to  enable  a  rational  being  to  meet 
the  present  trials  of  life,  and  to  look  without  fear  on  his 
future  destiny. 

(2.)  But  yet  more  strongly  is  it  felt  that  the  love  of  Clirist 
has  this  constraining  power  over  souls,  that  here,  if  any- 
where, we  are  unlocking  the  twisted  chain  of  sympathy,  and 
reaching  the  inmost  mystery  of  human  nature.  The  light, 
once  for  all,  of  Christ  crucified,  recalling  the  thought  of  what, 
more  than  eighteen  hundred  yeai-s  ago,  he  suffered  for  us,  has 
ravished  the  heart  and  melted  the  affections,  and  made  the 
world  seem  new,  and  covered  the  earth  itself  with  a  fair 
vision,  that  is,  a  heavenly  one.  The  strength  of  this  feeling 
arises  from  its  being  directed  towards  a  person,  a  real  being, 
an  individual  like  ourselves,  who  has  actually  endur^  all 
this  for  our  sakea,  who  was  so  much  above  us.  and  yet  became 
one  of  us  and  felt  as  we  did,  and  was,  like  ourselves,  a  true 
man.  The  love  which  he  felt  towartis  us,  we  seek  to  return 
to  him ;  the  unity  which  ho  has  with  God,  he  communicates 
to  us.  By  looking  upon  him  we  become  like  him,  and  at 
length  we  see  him  as  he  is.    Mere  human  love  rests  on  in« 


CONYERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHARACTER.    295 

stincts,  the  working  of  which  we  cannot  explain,  but  which 
nevertheless  touch  the  inmost  springs  of  our  being.  So  too 
we  have  spiritual  instincts,  acting  towards  higher  objects,  still 
more  suddenly  and  wonderfully  capturing  our  souls  in  an 
instant,  and  making  us  indifferent  to  all  things  else.  Such 
instincts  show  themselves  in  the  weak  no  less  than  in  the 
strong ;  they  seem  to  be  not  so  much  an  original  part  of  our 
nature,  as  to  fulfil  our  nature,  and  add  to  it,  and  draw  it  out, 
until  they  make  us  different  beings  to  ourselves  and  others. 
It  was  the  quaint  fancy  of  a  sentimentalist  to  ask  whether 
any  one  who  remembers  the  first  sight  of  a  beloved  person, 
could  doubt  the  existence  of  magic.  Much  more  truly  we 
may  ask,  Can  any  one  who  has  ever  once  known  the  love 
of  Christ  doubt  the  existence  of  a  spiritual  power  ? 

(3.)  Another  power  or  instiniment  by  the  help  of  which 
we  become  servants  of  God,  which  is  of  a  peculiar  nature, 
and  seems  to  be  intermediate  between  feeling  and  action,  and 
to  partake  of  both,  is  prayer.  Prayer  is  the  cone  entration  of 
faith  in  a  definite  act,  which  is  at  once  inward  aiid  outward, 
the  influence  of  which  on  the  character,  like  that  o1  any  other 
act,  is  proportioned  to  its  intensity.  The  imaginatit  n  of  doing 
rightly  adds  little  to  our  strength ;  even  the  wish  to  do  so  is 
not  necessarily  accompanied  by  a  change  of  heart  and  con- 
duct. But  in  prayer  we  imagine,  and  wish,  and  perform  all 
in  one.  Our  imperfect  resolutions  are  brought  into  the  pres- 
ence of  God;  our  weakness  becomes  strength,  our  words 
deeds.  No  other  action  is  so  mysterious ;  there  is  none  in 
which  we  seem,  in  the  same  manner,  to  renounce  ourselves 
that  we  may  be  one  with  God. 

Of  what  nature  that  prayer  is  which  is  effectual  to  the  ob- 
taining of  these  results,  is  a  question  of  the  same  kind  as  what 
constitutes  a  true  faith.  That  prayer,  we  should  answer, 
which  is  itself  most  of  an  act,  which  is  most  immediately 
followed  by  action,  which  is  most  truthful,  manly,  self-con- 
trolled, which  seems  to  lead  and  direct,  rather  than  to  follow, 
our  natural  emotions.  Prayer  is  the  very  reverse  of  the 
assertion  of  ourselves  before   God ;   yet  in  kneeling   before 


296    CONVERSION  4ND  CHANGES  OP  CHARACTER. 

him,  while  we  remember  that  he  is  God,  he  bids  us  remem- 
ber also  that  we  are  men,  whom,  even  when  humbled  before 
him,  he  would  not  have  fall  below  the  reason  that  he  has 
given  us. 

In  prayer,  as  in  all  religion,  there  is  something  that  it  is 
impossible  to  describe,  and  that  seems  to  be  untrue  the 
moment  it  is  expressed  in  words.  In  the  communion  of  man 
with  God,  it  is  vain  to  attempt  to  separate  what  belongs  to 
the  finite  and  what  to  the  infinite.  We  can  feel,  but  we  can- 
not analyze  it.  "We  can  lay  down  practical  rules  for  it,  but 
can  give  no  adequate  account  of  it.  It  is  a  mystery  which 
wo  do  not  seek  to  fathom.  In  all  religion  there  is  an  clement 
of  which  we  are  conscious ;  there  is  that  beyond  which  we 
feel  rather  than  know. 

This  indistinctness  in  the  very  subject  of  religion,  even 
independent  of  mysticism  or  superstition,  may  become  to 
intellectual  minds  a  ground  for  doubting  the  truth  of  that 
which  will  not  be  subjected  to  the  ordinary  tests  of  human 
knowledge,  which  seems  to  elude  our  grasp,  and  retire  into 
the  recesses  of  the  soul  the  moment  we  ask  for  the  demon- 
stration of  its  existence.  Against  this  natural  suspicion  let 
us  set  th*^!  fact,  that,  judged  by  its  effects,  the  power. of  re- 
ligion is  of  all  powers  the  greatest.  Knowledge  itself  is  a 
weak  instrument  to  stir  the  soul  compared  with  religion; 
morality  has  no  way  to  the  heart  of  man ;  but  the  Gospel 
reaches  the  feelings  and  the  intellect  at  once.  In  nations  as 
well  as  individual.<«,  in  barbarous  times  as  well  as  civilized,  in 
the  great  crises  of  history  especially,  even  in  the  latest  ages, 
when  the  minds  of  men  seem  to  wax  cold,  and  all  things  re- 
main the  same  as  at  the  beginning,  it  luis  shown  itself  to  be 
a  reality  without  which  human  nature  would  cease  to  be  ^hal 
it  is.  Almost  every  one  has  had  the  witness  of  it  in  himself. 
No  one,  says  Plato,  ever  passed  from  youth  to  age  in  un- 
belief of  the  go<l.s  in  heathen  times.  Hardly  any  educated 
person  in  a  Christian  land  has  passed  from  youth  to  age 
without  some  aspinition  afU*r  a  better  life,  some  thought 
of  the  country  to  which  he  b  going. 


CONVERSION  AND  CHANGES  OF  CHAKACTER.    297 

As  a  fact  it  would  be  admitted  by  most,  that  at  some  period 
of  their  lives  the  thought  of  the  world  to  come  and  of  future 
judgment,  the  beauty  and  lovehness  of  the  truths  of  the  Gos- 
pel, the  sense  of  the  shortness  of  our  days  here,  have  wrought 
a  more  quickening  and  powerful  effect  than  any  moral  truths 
or  prudential  maxims.  Many  a  one  would  acknowledge  that 
he  has  been  carried  whither  he  knew  not ;  and  had  nobler 
thoughts,  and  felt  higher  aspirations,  than  the  course  of  his 
ordinary  life  seemed  to  allow.  These  were  the  most  im- 
portant moments  of  his  life  for  good  or  for  evil ;  the  critical 
points  which  have  made  him  what  he  is,  either  as  he  used 
or  neglected  them.  They  came  he  knew  not  how,  sometimes 
with  some  outward  and  apparent  cause,  at  other  times  without, 
—  the  result  of  affliction  or  sickness,  or  "  the  wind  blowing 
where  it  listeth." 

And  if  such  changes  and  such  critical  points  should  be 
found  to  occur  in  youth  more  often  than  in  age,  in  the  poor 
and  ignorant  rather  than  in  the  educated,  in  women  more 
often  than  in  men,  —  if  reason  and  reflection  seem  to  weaken 
as  they  regulate  the  springs  of  human  action,  this  very  fact 
may  lead  us  to  consider  that  reason,  and  reflection,  and  edu- 
cation, and  the  expc3rience  of  age,  and  the  force  of  manly 
sense,  are  not  the  links  which  bind  us  to  the  communion  of 
the  body  of  Christ ;  that  it  is  rather  to  those  qualities  which 
we  have,  or  may  have,  in  common  with  our  fellow-men,  that 
the  Gospel  is  promised ;  and  that  it  is  with  the  weak,  the 
poor,  the  babes  in  Christ,  not  with  the  strong-minded,  the 
resolute,  the  consistent,  that  we  shall  sit  down  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven. 


"V       Of'  THE 

university; 

CASUISTRY. 

By    benjamin    JOWETT. 


Religion  and  morality  seem  often  to  become  entangled  in 
circumstances.  The  truth  which  came,  not  "  to  bring  peace 
upon  earth,  but  a  sword,"  could  not  but  give  rise  to  many 
new  and  conflicting  obligations.  The  kingdom  of  God  had 
to  adjust  itself  with  the  kingdoms  of  this  world ;  though  "  the 
children  were  free,"  they  could  not  escape  the  fulfilment  of 
duties  to  their  Jewish  or  Roman  governors  ;  in  the  bosom  of 
a  family  there  were  duties  too ;  in  society  there  were  many 
points  of  contact  with  the  heathen.  A  new  element  of  com- 
plexity had  been  introduced  in  all  the  relations  between  man 
and  man,  giving  rise  to  many  new  questions,  which  might  be 
termed,  in  the  phraseology  of  modern  times,  "  cases  of  con- 
science." 

Of  these  the  one  which  most  frequently  recurs  in  the 
Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  is  the  question  respecting  meats  and 
drinks,  which  appears  to  have  agitated  both  the  Roman  and 
Corinthian  Churches,  as  well  as  those  of  Jerusalem  and 
Antioch,  and  probably,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  every 
other  Christian  community  in  the  days  of  the  Apostle.  The 
scruple  which  gave  birth  to  it  was  not  confined  to  Christian- 
ity :  it  was  Eastern  rather  than  Christian,  and  originated  in  a 
feeling  into  which  entered,  not  only  Oriental  notions  of  physi- 
cal purity  and  impurity,  but  also  those  of  caste  and  of  race. 
"With  other  Eastern  influences  it  spread  towards  the  Wesl»  in 


300  CASUISTRY. 

the  flux  of  all  religions,  exercising  a  peculiar  power  on  the 
susceptible  temper  of  mankind. 

The  same  tendency  exhibited  itself  in  various  foiins.  In 
one  form  it  was  the  scruple  of  those  who  ate  herbs,  while 
others  *'  had  faith "  to  eat  anything.  The  Essenes  and 
Thcrapeutas  among  the  Jews,  and  the  Pythagoreans  in  the 
heathen  world,  had  a  similar  feeling  respecting  the  use  of 
animal  food.  It  was  a  natural  association  which  led  to  such 
an  abstinence.  In  the  East,  ever  ready  to  connect,  or  rather 
incapable  of  separating,  ideas  of  moral  and  physical  impurity, 
—  where  the  heat  of  the  climate  rendered  animal  food  un- 
necessary, if  not  positively  unhealthful;  where  corruption  so 
soon  infected  the  remains  of  animals ;  where,  lastly,  ancient 
tradition  and  ceremonies  told  of  the  sacredness  of  animals  and 
the  mysteriousness  of  animal  life,  —  nature  and  religion  idike 
seemed  to  teach  the  same  lesson,  it  was  safer  to  abstain.  It 
was  the  manner  of  such  a  scruple  to  propagate  itself.  He 
who  revolted  at  animal  food  could  not  quietly  sit  by  and  see 
his  neighbor  partake  of  it.  The  ceremonialism  of  the  age 
was  the  tradition  of  thousands  of  years,  and  passed  by  a  sort 
of  conttigion  from  one  race  to  another,  from  Paganism  or 
Judaism  to  Christianity.  How  to  deal  with  this  "second 
nature  "  was  a  practical  difficulty  among  the  first  Christians. 
They  were  not  an  Essene  sect ;  and  the  Church  could  not 
exclude  those  who  held  the  scruple,  could  not  be  narrowed 
to  them,  could  not  pass  judgment  on  them  at  all.  Hence  the 
force  of  the  Apostle's  words :  "  Him  that  is  weak  in  the  faith 
receive,  but  not  to  the  decision  of  doubts.'* 

There  was  another  point  in  reference  to  which  the  same 
spirit  of  ceremonialism  propagated  itself;  namely,  meats 
offered  to  idols.  Even  if  meat  in  general  were  innocent 
and  a  creature  of  Go<l,  it  could  hardly  be  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference to  partake  of  that  which  had  been  "  sacrificed  to 
devils  ** ;  least  of  all,  to  sit  at  meat  in  the  idol's  temple.  True, 
the  idol  was  "nothing  in  the  world,"  —  a  block  of  stone,  to 
which  the  words  good  or  evil  were  only  misapplied ;  but  it 
was  impossible  that  the   first   believers   could  so  n^gard  iL 


CASUISTRY.  301 

When  they  saw  the  worshippers  of  the  idol  revelling  in  im- 
purity,  they  could  not  but  believe  that  a  spirit  of  some  kind 
was  there.  Their  warfare,  as  the  Apostle  himself  had  told 
them,  was  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principali- 
ties, against  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world.  And  if  they  had  been  completely  free  from  super- 
stition, and  could  have  regarded  the  heathen  religions  which 
they  saw  enthroned  over  the  world  simply  with  contempt,  still 
the  question  would  have  arisen.  What  connection  were  they 
to  have  with  them  and  with  their  worshippers  ?  a  question 
not  easy  to  be  answered  in  the  bustle  of  Rome  and  Corinth, 
where  every  circumstance  of  daily  life,  every  amusement, 
every  political  and  legal  right,  was  in  some  way  bound  up 
with  the  heathen  religions.  Were  they  to  go  out  of  the 
world  ?  if  not,  what  was  to  be  their  relation  to  those  without  ? 
It  was  a  branch  of  this  more  general  question,  the  beginning 
of  the  difficulty  so  strongly  felt  and  so  vehemently  disputed 
about  in  the  days  of  TertuUian,  which  St.  Paul  discusses  in 
reference  to  meats  offered  to  idols.  Where  was  the  line  to 
be  drawn  ?  Were  they  to  visit  the  idol's  temple,  to  sacrifice 
like  other  men  to  Diana  or  Jupiter  ?  That  could  hardly  be 
consistent  with  their  Christian  profession.  But  granting  this, 
where  were  they  to  stop  ?  Was  it  lawful  to  eat  meats  offered 
to  idols  ?  But  if  not,  then  how  careful  should  they  be  to 
discover  what  was  offered  to  idols !  How  easily  might  they 
fall  into  sin  unawares  !  The  scruple  once  indulged  would 
soon  gather  strength,  until  the  very  provision  of  their  daily 
food  would  become  difficult  by  their  disuse  of  the  markets  of 
the  heathen. 

A  third  instance  of  the  same  ceremonialism  so  natural  to 
that  age,  and  to  ourselves  so  strange  and  unmeaning,  is  illus- 
trated by  the  words  of  the  Jerusalem  Christians  to  the  Apos- 
tle, "  Thou  wentest  in  unto  men  uncircumcised,  and  didst  eat 
with  them";  a  scruple  so  strong  that,  probably,  St.  Peter 
himself  was  never  entirely  free  from  it,  and  at  any  rate 
yielded  to  the  fear  of  it  in  others  when  withstood  by  St.  Paul 
at  Antioch.  This  scruple  may  be  said  in  one  sense  not  to  be 
26 


302  CASUISTRY. 

capable  of  an  explanation,  and  in  another  not  to  need  one. 
For,  probably,  nothing  can  give  our  minds  any  conception  of 
the  nature  of  the  feeling,  the  intense  hold  which  it  exercised, 
the  concentration  v/hich  it  was  of  every  national  and  religious 
prejudice,  the  constraint  which  was  required  to  get  rid  of  it 
as  a  sort  of  "  horror  naturalis  "  in  the  minds  of  Jews ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  feelings  at  the  present  day  not  very  dis- 
similar exist,  not  only  in  Eastern  countries,  but  among  our- 
selves. There  is  nothing  strange  in  human  nature  being 
liable  to  them,  or  in  their  long  lingering  and  often  returning, 
even  when  reason  and  charity  alike  condemn  them.  We 
ourselves  are  not  insensible  to  differences  of  race  and  color, 
and  may  therefore  be  able  partially  to  comprehend  (allowing 
for  the  difference  of  East  and  West)  what  was  the  feeling  of 
Jews  and  Jewish  Christians  towards  men  uncircumcised. 

On  the  last  point  St.  Paul  maintains  but  one  language : 
"  In  Christ  Jesus  there  is  neither  circumcision  nor  uncircum- 
cision."  No  compromise  could  be  allowed  here,  without 
destroying  the  Gospel  that  he  preached.  But  the  other  ques- 
tion of  meats  and  drinks,  when  separated  from  that  of  cir- 
cumcision, admitted  of  various  answei-s  and  points  of  view. 
Accordingly,  there  is  an  appearance  of  inconsistency  in  the 
modes  in  which  the  Apostle  resolves  it.  All  these  modes 
have  a  use  and  interest  for  ourselves.  Though  our  difficulties 
are  not  the  same  as  those  of  the  early  Christians,  the  words 
speak  to  us,  so  long  as  prudence,  and  faith,  and  charity  are 
the  guides  of  Christian  life.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  Apos- 
tle that  his  answers  run  into  one  another,  as  though  each  of 
them  to  different  individuals,  and  all  in  their  turn,  might 
present  tlie  solution  of  tlie  difficulty. 

Separating  them  under  different  heads,  we  may  begin  with 
1  Cor.  X.  25,  which  may  be  termed  the  rule  of  Christian 
prudence :  "  Whatsoever  is  sold  in  the  shambles,  that  eat, 
asking  no  question  for  conscience'  sake."  Tliat  is  to  say: 
**  Buy  food  as  other  men  do.  Perhaps  what  you  purchase  has 
come  from  the  idol's  temj)le,  perhaps  not.  Do  not  encourage 
your  conscience  in  raising  scruples :  life  w/U  become  impossi- 


CASinSTRT.  303 

ble  if  you  do.  One  question  involves  another  and  another  and 
another  without  end.  The  manly  and  the  Christian  way  is  to 
cut  them  short ;  both  as  tending  to  weaken  the  character,  and 
as  inconsistent  with  the  very  nature  of  spiritual  religion." 

So  we  may  venture  to  amplify  the  Apostle's  precept,  which 
breathes  the  same  spirit  of  moderation  as  his  decisions  re- 
specting celibacy  and  marriage.  Among  ourselves  the  remark 
is  often  made  that  "  extremes  are  practically  untrue."  This 
is  another  way  of  putting  the  same  lesson  :  If  I  may  not  sit 
in  the  idol's  temple,  it  may  be  plausibly  argued,  neither  may 
I  eat  meats  offered  to  idols ;  and  if  I  may  not  eat  meats 
offered  to  idols,  then  it  logically  follows  that  I  ought  not 
to  go  into  the  market  where  idols'  meat  is  sold.  The 
Apostle  snaps  the  chain  of  this  misapphed  logic  :  there 
must  be  a  Hmit  somewhere ;  we  must  not  push  consistency 
where  it  is  practically  impossible.  A  trifling  scruple  is  raised 
to  the  level  of  a  religious  duty,  and  another  and  another, 
until  religion  is  made  up  of  scruples,  and  the  light  of  life 
fades,  and  the  ways  of  life  narrow  themselves. 

It  is  not  hard  to  translate  the  Apostle's  precept  into  the 
language  of  our  time.  Instances  occur  in  politics,  in  theology, 
in  our  ordinary  occupations,  in  which  beyond  a  certain  point 
consistency  is  impossible.  Take  for  example  the  following : 
A  person  feels  that  he  would  be  wrong  in  carrying  on  his 
business,  or  going  to  public  amusements,  on  a  Sunday.  He 
says :  If  it  be  wrong  for  me  to  work,  it  is  wrong  to  make  the 
servants  in  my  house  work  ;  or  if  it  be  wrong  to  go  to  public 
amusements,  it  is  wrong  to  enjoy  the  recreation  of  walking  on 
a  Sunday.  So  it  may  be  argued  that,  because  slavery  is 
wrong,  therefore  it  is  not  right  to  purchase  the  produce  of 
slavery,  or  that  of  which  the  produce  of  slavery  is  a  part ; 
and  so  on  without  end,  until  we  are  forced  out  of  the  world 
from  a  remote  fear  of  contagion  with  evil.  Or  I  am  engaged 
in  an  employment  which  may  be  in  some  degree  deleterious 
to  the  health  or  injurious  to  the  morals  of  those  who  are 
employed  in  it,  or  I  let  a  house  to  another  who  is  so  en- 
gaged.    Numberless  questions  of  the  same  kir  d  relating  to 


804  CASUISTRY. 

the  profession  of  an  advocate,  a  soldier,  or  a  clergyman,  have 
been  pursued  into  endless  consequences.  In  all  these  cases 
there  is  a  point  at  which  necessity  comes  in  and  compels  us 
to  adopt  the  rule  of  the  Apostle,  which  may  be  paraphrased, 
"  Do  as  other  men  do  in  a  Christian  country."  Conscience 
may  say,  "  He  who  is  guilty  of  the  least,  is  guilty  of  all.** 
In  the  Apostle's  language  it  then  becomes  "  the  strength  of 
sin,**  encouraging  us  to  despair  of  all ;  because  in  that  mixed 
condition  of  life  in  which  God  has  placed  us,  we  cannot 
fulfil  all. 

In  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  same  principle  of  doing 
as  other  men  do,  the  Apostle  further  implies  that  believers 
are  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  the  heathen.     (1  Cor.  x.  27.) 
But  here  a  modification  comes  in,  which  may  be  termed  the 
law  of  Christian  charity  or  courtesy :  Avoid  giving  oflTence, 
or,  as  we  might  say,  "  Do  not  defy  opinion."     Eat  what  is 
set  before  you  ;  but  if  a  person  sitting  at  meat  pointedly  says 
to  you,  "  This  was  offered  to  idols,"  do  not  eat.     All  things 
are  laNvful,  but  all  things  are  not  expedient,  and  this  is  one  of 
the  not  expedient  class.     There  appeal's  to  be  a  sort  of  in- 
consistency in  this  advice,  as  there  must  always  be  incon- 
sistency in  the  rules  of  practical  life  which  are  relative  to 
circumstances.     It  might  be  said  :  "  We  cannot  do  one  thing 
at  one  time,  and  another  thing  at  another ;  now  be  guided  by 
another  man's  conscience,  now  by  our  own."     It  might  be 
retorted :  "  Is  not  this  the  dissimulation  which  you  blame  in 
St.  Peter?"     To  which  it  may  be  answered  in  turn  :  "  But  a 
man  may  do  one  thing  at  one  time,  anotlier  thing  at  another 
time,  '  becoming  to  the  Jews  a  Jew,*  if  he  do  it  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  avoid  the  risk  of  misconstruction."     And  this 
again  admits  of  the  retort :  "  Is  it  possible  to  avoid  miscon- 
struction ?     Is  it  not  better  to  dare  to  be  ourselves,  to  act  like 
ourselves,  to  speak  like  ourselves,  to  think  like  ourselves?" 
We  seem  to  have  lighted  unawares  on  two  varieties  of  human 
disposition :  the  one  harmonizing  and  adapting  itself  to  the 
perplexities  of  life,  the  other  rebelling  against  them,  and  seek- 
ing to  disentangle  itself  from  them.     Wliidi  side  of  this  argu- 


CASUISTRY.  305 

ment  shall  we  take ;  neither,  or  both  ?  The  Apostle  appears 
to  take  both  sides ;  for  in  the  abrupt  transition  that  follows, 
he  immediately  adds,  "  Why  is  my  liberty  to  be  judged  of 
another  man's  conscience  ?  what  right  has  another  man  to 
a.ttack  me  for  what  I  do  in  the  innocence  of  my  heart  ?  "  It 
is  good  advice  to  say,  "  Regard  the  opinions  of  others  "  ;  and 
equally  good  advice  to  say,  "  Do  not  regard  the  opinions  of 
others."  We  must  balance  between  two;  and  over  all,  ad- 
justing the  scales,  is  the  law  of  Christian  love. 

Both  in  1  Cor.  viii.  and  Rom.  xiv.  the  Apostle  adds  another 
principle,  which  may  be  termed  the  law  of  individual  con- 
science, which  we  must  listen  to  in  ourselves  and  regard  in 
others.  "  He  that  doubteth  is  damned  ;  whatsoever  is  not  of 
faith  is  sin."  All  things  are  lawful  to  him  who  feels  them  to 
be  lawful,  but  the  conscience  may  be  polluted  by  the  most  in- 
different things.  When  we  eat,  we  should  remember  that 
the  consequence  of  following  our  example  may  be  serious  to 
others.  For  not  only  may  our  brother  be  offended  at  us,  but 
also  by  our  example  be  drawn  into  sin ;  that  is,  to  do  what, 
though  indifferent  in  itself,  is  sin  to  him.  And  so  the  weak 
brother,  for  whom  Christ  died,  may  perish  through  our  fault ; 
that  is,  he  may  lose  his  peace  and  harmony  of  soul  and  con- 
science void  of  offence,  and  all  through  our  heedlessness  in  do- 
ing some  unnecessary  thing,  which  were  far  better  left  undone. 

Cases  may  be  readily  imagined,  in  which,  like  the  preced- 
ing, the  rule  of  conduct  here  laid  down  by  the  Apostle  would 
involve  dissimulation.  So  many  thousand  scruples  and  opin- 
ions as  there  are  in  the  world,  we  should  have  to  go  out  of 
the  world  to  fulfil  it  honestly.  All  reserve,  it  may  be  ar- 
gued, tends  to  break  up  the  confidence  between  man  and 
man  ;  and  there  are  times  in  which  concealment  of  our  opin- 
ions, even  respecting  things  indifferent,  would  be  treacherous 
and  mischievous  ;  there  are  times,  too,  in  which  things  cease 
to  be  indifferent,  and  it  is  our  duty  to  speak  out  respecting  the 
false  importance  which  they  have  acquired.  But,  after  all 
qualifications  of  this  kind  have  been  made,  the  secondary 
duty  yet  remains,  of  consideration  for  others,  which  should 

26* 


806  CASUISTRT.  » 

form  an  element  in  our  conduct.  If  truth  is  the  first  principle 
of  our  speech  and  action,  the  good  of  others  should,  at  any 
rate,  be  the  second.  "  If  any  man  (not  see  thee  who  hast 
knowledge  sitting  in  the  idol's  temple,  but)  hear  thee  discours- 
ing rashly  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  doctrines  of  the  Church, 
shall  not  the  faith  of  thy  younger  brother  become  confused  ? 
and  his  conscience  being  weak  shall  cease  to  discern  between 
good  and  evil.  And  so  thy  weak  brother  shall  perish  for 
whom  Christ  died." 

The  Apostle  adds  a  fourth  principle,  which  may  be  termed 
the  law  of  Christian  freedom,  as  the  last  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty :  "  Therefore,  whether  ye  eat  or  dnnk,  do  all  to  the 
glory  of  God."  From  the  perplexities  of  casuistry,  and  the 
conflictins:  rights  of  a  man's  own  conscience  and  that  of  an- 
Other,  he  falls  back  on  the  simple  rule,  "  Whatever  you  do, 
sanctify  the  act."  It  cannot  be  said  that  all  contradictory 
obligations  vanish  the  moment  we  try  to  act  with  simplicity 
and  truth ;  we  cannot  change  the  current  of  life  and  its  cir- 
cumstances by  a  wish  or  an  intention  ;  we  cannot  dispel  that 
which  is  without,  though  we  may  clear  that  which  is  within. 
But  we  have  taken  the  first  step,  and  are  in  the  way  to  solve 
the  riddle.  The  insane  scruple,  the  fixed  idea,  the  ever- 
increasing  doubt  begins  to  pass  away  ;  the  spirit  of  the  child 
returns  to  us ;  the  mind  is  again  free,  and  the  road  of  life 
open.  "Wliether  ye  eat  or  drink,  do  all  to  the  glory  of 
God  "  ;  that  is,  determine  to  seek  only  the  will  of  God,  and 
you  may  have  a  larger  measure  of  Christian  liberty  allowed 
to  you ;  things,  perhaps,  wrong  in  others  may  be  right  for 
you. 

The  law,  then,  of  Christian  prudence,  using  that  modera- 
tion which  we  show  in  things  pertaining  to  this  life ;  or  the 
law  of  Christian  charity,  resolving  and,  as  it  were,  absorbing 
our  scruples  in  the  love  of  other  men ;  or  the  law  of  the 
individual  conscience,  making  that  right  to  a  man,  in  matters 
in  themselves  indifferent,  which  seems  to  be  so ;  or  the  law 
of  freedom,  giving  us  a  spirit,  instead  of  a  letter,  and  enlarg- 
ing the  first  principles  of  the  doctrine  of   Christ ;    or  all 


CASUISTRY.  307 

together,  shall  furnish  the  doubting  believer  with  a  sufficient 
rule  of  faith  and  conduct.  Even  the  law  of  Christian  charity- 
is  a  rule  of  freedom  rather  than  of  restraint,  in  proportion  as 
it  places  men  above  questions  of  meats  and  drinks,  and  en- 
ables them  to  regard  such  disputes  only  by  the  light  of  love 
to  God  and  man.  For  there  is  a  tyranny  which  even  free- 
dom may  exercise,  when  it  makes  us  intolerant  of  other  men's 
difficulties.  "  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is 
liberty  " ;  but  there  is  also  a  liberty  without  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord.  To  eat  with  unwashen  hands  defileth  not  a  man  ;  but 
to  denounce  those  who  do,  or  do  not  do  so,  may,  in  St.  Paul's 
language,  cause,  not  only  the  weak  brother,  but  him  that 
fancieth  he  standeth,  to  fall ;  and  so,  in  a  false  endeavor  to 
preach  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  men  "may  perish  for  whom 
Christ  died." 

The  general  rule  of  the  Apostle  is,  "  Neither  circumcision 
availeth  anything,  nor  uncircumcision  *' ;  "  neither  if  we  eat  not 
are  we  the  better,  neither  if  we  eat  are  we  the  worse."  But 
then  "  all  things  are  lawful,  but  all  things  are  not  expedient," 
even  in  reference  to  ourselves,  and  still  more  as  we  are  mem- 
bers one  of  another.  There  is  a  further  counsel  of  prudence : 
"  Receive  such  an  one,  but  not  to  the  determination  of  his 
doubts."  And  lastly,  as  the  guide  to  the  spirit  of  our  actions, 
remember  the  words :  "  I  will  eat  no  meat  as  long  as  the 
world  standeth,  lest  I  make  my  brother  to  offend." 

Questions  of  meats  and  drinks,  of  eating  with  washen  or 
unwashen  hands,  have  passed  from  the  stage  of  religious 
ordinances,  to  that  of  proprieties  and  decencies  of  life.  Nei- 
ther the  purifications  of  the  law  of  Moses,  nor  the  seven  pre- 
cepts of  Noah,  are  any  longer  binding  upon  Christians. 
Nature  herself  teaches  all  things  necessary  for  health  and 
comfort.  But  the  spirit  of  casuistry  in  every  age  finds  fresh 
materials  to  employ  itself  upon,  laying  hold  of  some  question 
of  a  new  moon  or  a  Sabbath,  some  fragment  of  antiquity, 
some  inconsistency  of  custom,  some  subtlety  of  thought,  some 
nicety  of  morality,  analyzing  and  dividing  the  actions  of  daily 


308  CASUISTRT. 

life ;  separating  the  letter  from  the  spirit,  and  words  fix)in 
things ;  winding  its  toils  around  the  infirmities  of  the  weak, 
and  linking  itself  to  the  sensibility  of  the  intellect.  Out  of 
this  labyrinth  of  the  soul  the  believer  finds  his  way,  by  keep- 
ing his  eye  fixed  on  that  landmark  which  the  Apostle  himself 
has  set  up :  "  In  Christ  Jesus  neither  circumcision  availeth 
anything,  nor  uncircumcision,  but  a  new  creature." 

There  is  no  one  probably,  of  any  religious  experience,  who 
has  not  at  times  felt  the  power  of  a  scrupulous  conscience. 
In  speaking  of  a  scrupulous  conscience,  the  sense  of  remorse 
for  greater  offences  is  not  intended  to  be  included.  These 
may  press  more  or  less  heavily  on  the  soul ;  and  the  remem- 
brance of  them  may  ingrain  themselves,  with  different  de- 
grees of  depth,  on  different  temperaments  ;  but  whether  deep 
or  shallow,  the  sorrow  for  them  cannot  be  brought  under  the 
head  of  scruples  of  conscience.  There  are  "  many  things  in 
which  we  offend  all,"  about  which  there  can  be  no  mistake, 
the  impression  of  which  on  our  minds  it  would  be  fatal  to 
weaken  or  do  away.  But  quite  independently  of  real  sorrows 
for  sin,  most  religious  persons  in  the  course  of  their  lives  have 
felt  unreal  scruples  or  difficulties,  or  exaggerated  i*eal  but 
slight  ones ;  they  have  abridged  their  Christian  freedom,  and 
thereby  their  means  of  doing  good  ;  they  have  cherished 
imaginary  obligations,  and  artificially  hedged  themselves  in  a 
particular  course  of  action.  Honor  or  truth  seems  to  be  at 
stake  about  trifies  light  lu^  air,  or  conscience  has  become  a 
burden  too  heavy  for  them  to  bear  in  some  doubtful  matter  of 
conduct.  Scruples  of  this  kind  are  ever  liable  to  increase : 
as  one  vanishes,  another  apj)eai*s ;  the  circumstances  of  the 
world  and  of  the  Church,  and  even  the  complication  of  mod- 
cm  society,  have  a  tendency  to  create  them.  The  very  form 
in  which  they  come  is  of  itself  sufficient  to  put  us  on  our 
guanl  against  them ;  for  we  can  give  no  account  of  thera  to 
ourselves ;  they  are  seUlom  aftected  by  the  opinion  of  others ; 
Ihcy  are  more  often  put  down  by  the  exercise  of  authority 
tham  by  reasoning  or  judgment.  They  gain  hold  on  the 
weaker  sort  of  men,  or  on   those   not  natui-ally  weak,  in 


CASUiSTRr.  309 

moments  of  weakness.  They  often  run  counter  to  our  wish 
or  interest,  and  for  this  very  reason  acquire  a  kind  of  tenacity. 
They  seem  innocent  mistakes,  at  worst  on  the  safe  side,  char- 
acteristic of  the  ingenuousness  of  youth,  or  indicative  of  a 
heart  uncorrupted  by  the  world.  But  this  is  not  so.  Crea- 
tures as  we  are  of  circumstances,  we  cannot  safely  afford  to 
give  up  things  indifferent,  means  of  usefulness,  instruments  of 
happiness  to  ourselves,  which  may  affect  our  lives  and  those 
of  our  children  to  the  latest  posterity.  There  are  few  greater 
dangers  in  religion  than  the  indulgence  of  such  scruples,  the 
consequences  of  which  can  never  be  seen  until  too  kite,  and 
which  affect  the  moral  character  of  a  man  at  least  as  much 
as  his  temporal  interests. 

Strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that 
scruples  about  lesser  matters  almost  always  involve  some 
derehction  of  duty  in  greater  and  more  obvious  ones.  A 
tender  conscience  is  a  conscience  unequal  to  the  struggles  of 
life.  At  first  sight  it  seems  as  if,  when  lesser  duties  were 
cared  for,  the  greater  would  take  care  of  themselves.  But 
this  is  not  the  lesson  which  experience  teaches.  In  our  moral, 
as  in  our  physical  nature,  we  are  finite  beings,  cafiable  only 
of  a  certain  degree  of  tension,  ever  liable  to  suffer  disorder 
and  derangement,  to  be  over-exercised  in  one  part  and  weak- 
ened in  another.  No  one  can  fix  his  mind  intently  on  a 
trifling  scruple,  or  become  absorbed  in  an  eccentric  fancy, 
without  finding  the  great  principles  of  truth  and  justice  in- 
sensibly depart  from  him.  He  has  been  looking  through  a 
microscope  at  life,  and  cannot  take  in  its  general  scope.  The 
moral  proportions  of  things  are  lost  to  him  ;  the  question  of  a 
new  moon  or  a  Sabbath  has  taken  the  place  of  diligence  or  of 
honesty.  There  is  no  limit  to  the  illusions  which  he  "may 
practise  on  himself.  There  are  those,  all  whose  interests  and 
prejudices  at  once  take  the  form  of  duties  and  scruples,  partly 
from  dishonesty,  but  also  from  weakness,  and  because  that  is 
the  form  in  which  they  can  with  the  best  grace  maintain 
them  against  other  men,  and  conceal  their  true  nature  from 
themselves. 


810  CASUISTRY. 

Scruples  are  dangerous  in  another  way,  as  they  tend  to 
drive  men  into  a  corner  in  which  the  performance  of  our 
duty  becomes  so  ditficult  as  to  be  ahnost  impossible.  A  vir* 
tuous  and  religious  life  does  not  consist  merely  in  abstaining 
from  evil,  but  in  doing  what  is  good.  It  hiis  to  find  oppor- 
tunities and  occasions  for  itself,  without  which  it  languishes. 
A  man  has  a  sci*uple  about  the  choice  of  a  profession ;  as  a 
Christian,  he  believes  war  to  be  unlawful ;  in  familiar  Um- 
guage,  he  has  doubts  respecting  orders,  difficulties  about  the 
law.  Even  the  ordinary  ways  of  conducting  trade  appear 
deficient  to  his  nicer  sense  of  honesty;  or  perhaps  he  has 
already  entered  on  one  of  these  lines  of  life,  and  finds  it 
necessary  to  quit  it.  At  last,  there  comes  the  difficulty  of 
"  how  he  is  to  live."  There  cannot  be  a  greater  mistake  than 
to  suppose  that  a  good  resolution  is  sufficient  in  such  a  case 
to  carry  a  man  through  a  long  life. 

But  even  if  we  suppose  the  case  of  one  who  is  endowed 
with  every  earthly  good  and  instrument  of  prosperity,  who 
can  affiard,  as  is  sometimes  said,  to  trifle  with  the  opportuni- 
ties of  life,  still  the  mental  consequences  will  be  hardly  less 
injurious  to  him.  For  he  who  feels  scruples  about  the  ordi- 
nary enjoyments  and  occupations  of  his  fellows,  does  so  far 
cut  himself  off  from  his  common  nature.  He  is  an  isolated 
being,  incapable  of  acting  with  his  fellow-men.  There  are 
plants  which,  though  the  sun  shine  upon  them,  and  the  dews 
water  them,  peak  and  pine  from  some  internal  disorder,  and 
appear  to  have  no  sympathy  with  the  influences  around  them. 
So  is  the  mind  corroded  by  scruples  of  conscience.  It  cannot 
expand  to  sun  or  shower;  it  belongs  not  to  the  world  of  light; 
it  has  no  intelligence  of,  or  harmony  with,  mankind  around. 
It  is  insensible  to  the  great  truth,  that  though  we  may  not  do 
evil  that  good  may  come,  yet  that  good  lujd  evil,  tnith  and 
falsehood,  are  bound  together  on  earth,  and  that  we  cannot 
separate  ourselves  from  them. 

It  is  one  of  the  peculiar  dangers  of  scruples  of  conscience, 
that  the  consequence  of  giving  way  to  them  is  never  felt  at 
the  time  that  they  press  upon  us.     When  the  mind  is  worried 


CASUISTRY.  811 

by  a  thought  secretly  working  in  it,  and  its  trial  becomes 
greater  than  it  can  bear,  it  is  eager  to  take  the  plunge  in  life 
that  may  put  it  out  of  its  misery ;  to  throw  aside  a  profession 
it  may  be,  or  to  enter  a  new  religious  communion.  "We  shall 
not  be  wrong  in  promising  ourselves  a  few  weeks  of  peace 
and  placid  enjoyment.  The  years  that  are  to  follow  we  are 
incapable  of  realizing :  whether  the  weary  spirit  will  require 
some  fresh  posture,  will  invent  for  itself  some  new  doubt ; 
whether  its  change  is  a  return  to  nature  or  not,  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  anticipate.  Whether  it  has  in  itself  that  hidden 
strength  which,  under  every  change  of  circumstances,  is  capa- 
ble of  bearing  up,  is  a  question  which  we  are  the  least  able  to 
determine  for  ourselves.  In  general  we  may  observe,  that 
the  weakest  minds  and  those  least  capable  of  enduring  such 
consequences,  are  the  most  likely  to  indulge  the  scruples. 
"We  know  beforehand  the  passionate  character,  the  active  yet 
half-reasoning  intellect,  which  falls  under  the  power  of  such 
illusions. 

In  the  Apostohc  Church  "cases  of  conscience"  arose  out 
of  religious  traditions,  and  what  may  be  termed  the  cere- 
monial cast  of  the  age  ;  in  modern  times  the  most  frequent 
source  of  them  may  be  said  to  be  the  desire  of  logical  or 
practical  consistency,  such  as  is  irreconcilable  with  the  mixed 
state  of  human  affairs  and  the  feebleness  of  the  human  intel- 
lect. There  is  no  lever  like  the  argument  from  consistency, 
with  which  to  bring  men  over  to  our  opinions.  A  particular 
system  or  view,  Calvinism  perhaps,  or  Catholicism,  has  taken 
possession  of  the  mind.  Shall  we  stop  short  of  pushing  its 
premises  to  their  conclusions  ?  Shall  we  stand  in  the  mid- 
way, where  we  are  liable  to  be  over-ridden  by  the  combatants 
on  either  side  in  the  struggle  ?  Shall  we  place  ourselves 
between  our  reason  and  our  affections ;  between  our  practical 
duties  and  our  intellectual  convictions  ?  Logic  would  have  us 
go  forward,  and  take  our  stand  at  the  most  advanced  point,  — 
we  are  there  already,  it  is  urged,  if  we  were  true  to  ourselves, 
—  but  feeling,  and  habit,  and  common  sense  bid  us  stay  where 
we  ai'e,  unable  to  give  an  account  of  ourselves,  yet  convinced 


612  CASUISTRY. 

that  we  are  right.  We  may  listen  to  the  one  voice,  we  may 
listen  also  to  the  other.  The  true  way  of  guiding  either  is 
to  acknowledge  both;  to  use  them  for  a  time  against  each 
other,  until  experience  of  life  and  of  ourselves  has  taught  us 
to  harmonize  them  in  a  single  principle. 

So,  again,  in  daily  life  cases  often  occur,  in  which  we  must 
do  as  other  men  do,  and  act  upon  a  general  understanding, 
even  though  unable  to  reconcile  a  particular  practice  to  the 
letter  of  truthfulness  or  even  to  our  individual  conscience.  It 
is  hard  in  such  cases  to  lay  down  a  definite  rule.  But  in 
general  we  should  be  suspicious  of  any  conscientious  scruples 
in  which  other  good  men  do  not  share.  We  shall  do  right  to 
make  a  large  allowance  for  the  perplexities  and  entanglements 
of  human  things ;  we  shall  observe  that  men  of  strong  minds 
brush  away  our  scruples  ;  we  shall  consider  that  not  he  who 
has  most,  but  he  who  has  fewest  scruples,  approaches  most 
nearly  the  true  Christian.  For,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  What- 
soever is  not  of  faith  is  sin  " ;  and  "  Blessed  is  he,  who  con- 
demneth  not  himself  in  that  which  he  alloweth.** 

So  far  we  seem  to  arrive  at  a  general  conclusion  like  St. 
Paul's :  "  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  do  all  to  the  glory  of 
God  '* ;  "  Have  the  spirit  of  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make 
you  free  ** ;  and  the  entanglements  of  words  and  the  perplexi- 
ties of  action  shall  disappear.  But  there  is  another  way  in 
which  such  difiicuhies  have  been  resolved,  which  meets  them 
in  detail ;  namely,  the  practice  of  confession,  and  the  rules  of 
casuistry  which  are  the  guides  of  the  confessor.  When  the 
spirit  is  disordered  within  us,  it  may  be  urged  that  we  ought 
to  go  out  of  ourselves  and  confess  our  sins  one  to  another. 
But  he  who  leads,  and  he  who  is  led,  alike  require  some  rules 
for  the  examination  of  conscience,  to  quicken  or  moderate  the 
sense  of  sin,  to  assist  experience,  to  show  men  to  themselves 
as  they  really  are,  neither  better  nor  worse.  Hence  the 
necessity  for  casuistry. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  what  is  in  idea  so  excellent  that  it 
may  be  almost  described  in  St.  Paul's  language  as  "  holy, 
just,  and  good,"  should  have  become  a  by-word  among  man- 


CASUISTRY.  313 

kind  for  hypocrisy  and  dishonesty.  In  popular  estimation,  no 
one  is  supposed  to  resort  to  casuistry  but  with  the  view  of 
evading  a  duty.  The  moral  instincts  of  the  world  have  risen 
up  and  condemned  it ;  corruptio  optimi  pessima.  Bad  as  it 
is,  it  has  a  good  side,  which  is  the  chief  source  of  its  influence. 
It  will  be  proper  for  us  to  consider  it  from  both  sides,  —  in  its 
origin,  and  in  its  perversion.  Why  it  existed,  and  why  it  has 
failed,  furnish  a  lesson  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  of 
importance  and  instruction. 

The  unseen  power  by  which  the  systems  of  the  casuists 
were  brought  into  being  was  the  necessity  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  Like  the  allegorical  interpretation  of  Scrip- 
ture, they  formed  a  link  between  the  present  and  the  past. 
At  the  time  of  the  Reformation  the  doctrines  of  the  ancient, 
no  less  than  of  the  Reformed  faith  awakened  into  life.  But 
they  required  to  be  put  in  a  new  form,  to  reconcile  them  to 
the  moral  sense  of  mankind.  Luther  ended  the  work  of  self- 
examination  by  casting  all  his  sins  on  Christ.  But  the 
casuists  could  not  thus  meet  the  awakening  of  men's  con- 
sciences and  the  fearful  looking  for  judgment.  They  had  to 
deal  with  an  altered  world,  in  which  the  spectres  of  the  past, 
purgatory,  penance,  mortal  sin,  were  again  rising  up.  Hal- 
lowed as  they  were  by  authority  and  antiquity,  they  could  not 
cast  them  aside,  they  could  but  explain  them  away.  If  they 
had  placed  distinctly  before  men's  eyes,  that  for  some  one  act 
of  immorality  or  dishonesty  they  were  in  a  state  of  mortal 
sin,  the  heart  true  to  itself  would  have  recoiled  from  such  a 
doctrine,  and  the  connection  between  the  Church  and  the 
world  would  have  been  for  ever  severed.  And  yet  the  doc- 
trine was  a  part  of  ecclesiastical  tradition ;  it  could  not  be 
held,  it  could  not  be  given  up.  The  Jesuits  escaped  the 
dilemma  by  holding  and  evading  it. 

So  far  it  would  not  be  untrue  to  say,  that  casuistry  had 
originated  in  an  effort  to  reconcile  the  Roman  Cathohc  faith 
with  nature  and  experience.  The  Roman  system  was,  if 
strictly  carried  out,  horrible  and  impossible ;  a  doctrine  not, 
as  it  has  been  sometimes  described,  of  salvation  made  easy, 
27 


814  CASUISTRY. 

but  of  universal  condemnation.  From  these  fearful  conclu- 
sions of  logic  the  subtlety  of  the  human  intellect  was  now  to 
save  it.  The  analogy  of  law,  as  worked  out  by  jurists  and 
canonists,  supplied  the  means.  What  was  repugnant  to  hu- 
man justice  could  not  be  agreeable  to  Divine.  The  schohistic 
j)hilosophy,  which  had  begun  to  die  out  and  fade  away  before 
the  light  of  classical  learning,  was  to  revive  in  a  new  form, 
no  longer  hovering  between  heaven  and  earth,  out  of  the 
reach  of  experience,  yet  below  the  region  of  spiritual  truth, 
but,  as  it  seemed,  firmly  based  in  the  life  and  actions  of  man- 
kind. It  was  the  same  sort  of  wisdom  which  defined  the 
numbers  and  order  of  the  celestial  hierarchy,  which  was  now 
to  be  adapted  to  the  infinite  modifications  of  which  the  actions 
of  men  are  capable. 

It  is  obvious  that  there  are  endless  points  of  view  in  which 
the  simplest  duties  may  be  regarded.  Common  sense  says, 
"  A  man  is  to  be  judged  by  his  acts,"  "  There  can  be  no  mis- 
take about  a  lie,"  and  so  on.  The  casuists  proceed  by  a 
different  road.  Fixing  the  mind,  not  on  the  simplicity,  but 
on  the  intricacy  of  human  action,  in  the  hope  of  gjiining  sim- 
plicity they  study  every  point  of  view,  and  introduce  every 
conceivable  distinction.  A  first  most  obvious  distinction  is 
that  of  the  intention  and  the  act ;  ought  the  one  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  other  ?  The  law  itself  seems  to  teadi  that 
this  may  hardly  be ;  rather  the  intention  is  held  to  be  that 
which  gives  form  and  color  to  the  act.  Then  the  act  by  itself 
18  nothing,  and  the  intention  by  itself  almost  innocent.  As 
we  play  between  the  two  different  points  of  view,  the  act  and 
the  intention  together  evanesce.  But,  secondly,  as  we  con- 
sider the  intention,  must  we  not  also  consider  the  circumstances 
of  the  agent  ?  For,  plainly,  a  being  deprived  of  free-will  can- 
not be  responsible  for  his  actions.  Place  him  in  thought 
under  the  conditions  of  a  necessary  agent,  and  his  actions  are 
innocent.  Or  sup|)ose  a  man  ignomnt,  or  half  ignorant,  of 
what  is  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  or  the  law  of  the  land, 
here  another  abstract  point  of  view  arises,  leading  us  out  of 
the  region  of  common  sense  to  difficult  and  equitable  con* 


CASUISTRY.  315 

Biderations,  which  may  be  determined  fairly,  but  which  we 
have  the  greatest  motive  to  decide  in  fiivor  of  ourselves.  Or 
again,  try  to  conceive  an  act  without  reference  to  its  conse- 
quences, or  in  reference  to  some  single  consequence,  without 
regarding  it  as  a  violation  of  morality  or  of  nature,  or  in 
reference  solely  to  the  individual  conscience.  Or  imagine 
the  will  half  consenting  to,  half  withdrawing  from  its  act ;  or 
acting  by  another,  or  in  obedience  to  another,  or  with  some 
good  object,  or  under  the  influence  of  some  impeifect  obli- 
gation, or  of  opposite  obligations.  Even  conscience  itself  may 
be  at  last  played  off  against  the  plainest  truths. 

By  the  aid  of  such  distinctions  the  simplest  principles  of 
morality  multiply  to  infinity.  An  instrument  has  been  intro- 
duced of  such  subtlety  and  elasticity  that  it  can  accommodate 
the  canons  of  the  Church  to  any  consciences,  to  any  state  of 
the  world.  Sin  need  no  longer  be  confined  to  the  dreadful 
distinction  of  mortal  and  venial  sin  ;  it  has  lost  its  infinite  and 
mysterious  character ;  it  has  become  a  thing  of  degrees,  to 
be  aggravated  or  mitigated  in  idea,  according  to  the  expe- 
diency of  the  case  or  the  pliability  of  the  confessor.  It  be- 
comes difficult  to  perpetrate  a  perfect  sin.  No  man  need  die 
of  despair ;  in  some  page  of  the  writings  of  the  casuists  will 
be  found  a  distinction  suited  to  his  case.  And  this  without  in 
any  degree  interfering  with  a  single  doctrine  of  the  Church, 
or  withdrawing  one  of  its  anathemas  against  heresy. 

The  system  of  casuistry,  destined  to  work  such  great  re- 
sults, in  reconciling  the  Church  to  the  world,  and  to  human 
nature,  like  a  torn  web,  needing  to  be  knit  together,  may  be 
regarded  as  a  science  or  profession.  It  is  a  classification  of 
human  actions,  made  in  one  sense  without  any  reference  to 
practice.  For  nothing  was  further  from  the  mind  of  the  casuist 
than  to  inquire  whether  a  particular  distinction  would  have  a 
good  or  bad  effect,  was  liable  to  perversion  or  not.  His  object 
was  only  to  make  such  distinctions  as  the  human  mind  was 
capable  of  perceiving  and  acknowledging.  As  to  the  physi- 
ologist objects  in  themselves  loathsome  and  disgusting  may  be 
of  the  deepest  interest,  so  to  the  casuist  the  foulest  and  most 


816  CASUISTRY. 

loathsome  vices  of  mankind  are  not  matters  of  abhorrence, 
but  of  science,  to  be  arranged  and  classified,  just  like  any 
other  varieties  of  human  action.  It  is  true  that  the  study  of 
the  teacher  was  not  supposed  to  be  also  open  to  the  penitent 
But  it  inevitably  followed  that  the  spirit  of  the  teacher  com- 
municated itself  to  the  tt\ught  He  could  impart  no  high  or 
exalted  idea  of  morality  or  religion,  who  was  measuring  it 
out,  as  it  were,  by  inches,  not  deepening  men's  idea  of  sin, 
but  attenuating  it,  and  doing  away  its  awful  and  mysterious 
nature. 

The  science  was  further  complicated  by  the  "  doctrine  of 
probability,"  which  consisted  in  making  anything  approved  or 
approvable  that  was  confirmed  by  authority ;  even  as  was 
said  by  some  of  a  single  casuist.  That  could  not  be  very 
wrong  which  a  wise  and  good  man  had  once  thought  to  be 
right,  —  a  better  than  ourselves  perhaps,  surveying  the  cir- 
cumstances calmly  and  impartially.  Who  would  wish  that 
the  rule  of  his  daily  life  should  go  beyond  that  of  a  saint 
and  doctor  of  the  Church  ?  Who  would  require  such  a  rule 
to  be  observed  by  another  ?  Who  would  refuse  another  such 
an  escape  out  of  the  labyrinth  of  human  difficulties  and  per- 
plexities ?  As  in  all  the  Jesuit  distinctions,  there  was  a  kind 
of  reasonableness  in  the  theory  of  this ;  it  did  but  go  on  the 
principle  of  cutting  short  scruples  by  the  nile  of  common 
sense. 

And  yet  what  a  door  was  here  opened  for  the  dishonesty  of 
mankind !  The  science  itself  had  dissected  moral  action  until 
nothing  of  life  or  meaning  remained  in  it.  It  had  thrown 
aside,  at  the  same  time,  the  natural  restmint  which  tlie  moral 
sense  itself  exercises  in  determining  such  questions.  And 
now  for  the  application  of  this  system,  so  difficult  and  com- 
plicated in  itself,  so  incapable  of  receiving  any  check  from 
the  opinions  of  mankind,  the  authority,  not  of  the  Church,  but 
of  individuals,  was  to  he  added  as  a  new  lever  to  overthrow 
the  last  remains  of  natural  religion  and  mondity. 

The  marvels  of  tliM  science  are  not  yet  ended.  For  the 
Bame  changes  admit  of  being  rung  u{K>n  speech  as  well  at 


CASUISTRY.  817 

upon  action,  until  ti'uth  and  falsehood  become  alike  impossible. 
Language  itself  dissolves  before  the  decomposing  power ; 
oaths,  like  actions,  vanish  into  air  when  separated  from  the 
intention  of  the  speaker;  the  shield  of  custom  protects  false- 
hood. It  would  be  a  curious  though  needless  task  to  follow 
the  subject  into  further  details.  He  who  has  read  one  page 
of  the  casuists  has  read  all.  There  is  nothing  that  is  not 
right  in  some  particular  point  of  view,  —  nothing  that  is  not 
true  under  some  previous  supposition. 

Such  a  system  might  be  left  to  refute  itself.  Those  who 
have  strayed  so  far  away  from  truth  and  virtue  are  self- 
condemned.  Yet  it  is  not  without  interest  to  trace  by  what 
false  lights  of  philosophy  or  religion  good  men,  revolting 
themselves  at  the  commission  of  evil,  were  led,  step  by  step, 
to  the  unnatural  result.  We  should  expect  to  find  that  such  a 
result  had  originated,  not  in  any  settled  purpose  to  corrupt  the 
morals  of  mankind,  but  in  an  intellectual  error ;  and  we  could 
hardly  avoid  reflecting  how  fearfully  and  wonderfully  our 
moral  nature  was  composed,  when  an  intellectual  error  had 
the  power  to  produce  such  consequences.  Such  we  find  to  be 
the  fact.  The  conception  of  moral  action  on  which  the  sys- 
tem depends,  is  as  erroneous  and  imperfect  as  that  of  the 
scholastic  philosophy  respecting  the  nature  of  ideas. 

1.  It  ignores  the  difference  between  thought  and  action. 
Actions  *  are  necessarily  external.  The  spoken  word  con- 
stitutes the  lie ;  the  outward  performance,  the  crime.  The 
highest  wisdom,  it  is  true,  has  identified  the  two.  "  He  that 
looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her  hath  already  committed 
adultery  with  her  in  his  heart."  But  this  is  not  the  rule  by 
which  we  are  to  judge  our  past  actions,  but  to  guard  our 
future  ones.  He  who  has  thoughts  of  lust  or  passion  is  not 
innocent  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  is  liable  to  be  carried  on  to 
perform  the  act  on  which  he  suffers  himself  to  dwell.  And, 
in  looking  forward,  he  will  do  well  to  remember  this  caution 
of  Christ ;  but  in  looking  backward,  in  thinking  of  others,  in 
endeavoring  to  estimate  the  actual  amount  of  guilt  or  tres- 
pass, if  he  begnis  by  placing  thought  on  the  level  of  action, 
27* 


818  CASUISTRY. 

he  will  end  bj  placing  action  on  the  level  of  thought  It 
would  be  a  monstrous  state  of  mind  in  which  we  regarded 
mere  imagination  of  evil  as  the  same  with  action ;  hatred  as 
the  same  with  murder;  thoughts  of  impurity  as  the  same 
with  adultery.  It  is  not  so  that  we  must  learn  Christ.  Ac- 
tions are  one  thing,  and  thoughts  another,  in  the  eye  of  con- 
science, no  less  than  of  the  law  of  the  land ;  of  Gk)d  as  well 
as  man.  Momlity  ventures  a  little  way  into  the  spintual 
world ;  it  would  be  apt  to  lose  its  nature  if  it  went  further. 
However  important  it  may  be  to  us  to  remember  that  the  all- 
seeing  eye  of  God  tries  the  reins,  it  is  no  less  important  to 
remember  also  that  morality  consists  in  definite  acts,  capable 
of  being  seen  and  judged  of  by  our  fellow-creatures,  impossi- 
ble to  escape  ourselves. 

2.  It  is  quite  true  that  actions  the  same  in  name,  arc, 
in  the  scale  of  right  and  wrong,  as  different  as  can  be  im- 
agined ;  varying  with  the  age,  temperament,  education,  cir- 
cumstances of  each  individual.  The  casuist  is  not  in  fault 
for  maintaining  this  difference,  but  for  supposing  that  he  can 
classify  or  distinguish  them  so  as  to  give  any  conception  of 
their  innumerable  shades  and  gi-jidations.  All  his  folios  are 
but  the  weary  effort  to  abstract  or  make  a  brief  of  the  indi- 
viduality of  man.  The  very  actions  which  he  classifies 
change  their  nature  as  he  writes  them  down.  Know  our- 
selves we  sometimes  truly  may,  but  we  ciuinot  knotv  others, 
and  no  other  am  know  us.  No  other  can  know  or  under- 
stand us  in  the  same  wondei-ful  or  mysterious  way  ;  no  other 
can  be  conscious  of  the  spirit  in  which  we  have  lived.  No 
other  can  see  that  which  is  within.  God  has  placed  a  veil  of 
flesh  between  ourselves  and  other  men,  to  screen  the  naked- 
ness of  our  soul.  Into  the  secret  chamber  he  does  not  require 
that  we  should  admit  any  other  judge  or  counsellor  but  him- 
self. Two  eyes  only  are  u|)on  us,  —  the  eye  of  our  own  souK 
the  eye  of  Gcxl,  —  and  tlie  one  is  iu<;sisted  by  the  other.  The 
knowledge  which  liiey  give  us  of  our  own  nature  is  different 
in  kind  from  that  which  the  confessor  extracts  from  the  books 
of  the  casuists. 


.       CASUISTRY.  819 

3.  There  are  many  cases  in  which  our  first  thoughts,  or,  to 
Bpeak  more  correctly,  our  instinctive  perceptions,  are  true  and 
right ;  in  which  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  he  who  delib' 
erates  is  lost.  The  very  act  of  turning  to  a  book,  or  referring 
to  another,  enfeebles  our  power  of  action.  In  the  arts  we  pro- 
duce an  effect,  we  know  not  how,  by  some  simultaneous  move- 
ment of  hand  and  thought,  which  seem  to  lend  to  each  other 
force  and  meaning.  So  in  moral  action,  the  true  view  does  not 
separate  the  intention  from  the  act,  or  the  act  from  the  cir- 
cumstances which  surround  it,  but  regards  them  as  one  and 
absolutely  indivisible.  In  the  performance  of  the  act  and  in 
the  judgment  of  it,  the  will  and  the  execution,  the  hand  and 
the  thought,  are  to  be  considered  as  one.  Those  who  act 
most  energetically,  who  in  difficult  circumstances  judge  the 
most  truly,  do  not  separately  pass  in  review  the  rules,  and 
principles,  and  counter-principles  of  action,  but  grasp  them  at 
once,  in  a  single  instant.  Tho.^e  who  act  most  truthfully, 
honestly,  firmly,  manfully,  consistently,  take  least  time  to 
deliberate.  Such  should  be  the  attitude  of  our  minds  in  all 
questions  of  right  and  wrong,  truth  and  falsehood :  we  may 
not  inquire,  but  act. 

4.  Casuistry  not  only  renders  us  independent  of  our  own  con- 
victions, it  renders  us  independent  also  of  the  opinion  of  man- 
kind in  general.  It  puts  the  confessor  in  the  place  of  ourselves, 
and  in  the  place  of  the  world.  By  making  the  actions  of  men 
matters  of  science,  it  cuts  away  the  supports  and  safeguards 
which  public  opinion  gives  to  morality.  The  confessor,  in  the 
silence  of  the  closet,  easily  introduces  principles  from  which 
the  common  sense  or  conscience  of  mankind  would  have 
shrunk  back.  Especially  in  matters  of  truth  and  falsehood, 
in  the  nice  sense  of  honor  shown  in  the  unwillingness  to  get 
others  within  our  power,  his  standard  will  probably  fall  short 
of  that  of  the  world  at  large.  Public  opinion,  it  is  true, 
drives  men's  vices  inwards  ;  it  teaches  them  to  conceal  their 
faults  from  others,  and  if  possible  from  themselves,  and  this 
very  concealment  may  sink  them  in  despair,  or  cover  them 
with  self-deceit.  Yet  the  good  of  this  is,  on  the  whole,  greater 


820  CASUISTRY. 

than  the  evil.  Not  only  is  the  outward  aspect  of  society 
more  decorous,  and  the  confidence  between  man  and  man  less 
liable  to  be  impaired,  but  the  mere  fact  of  men's  sins  being 
known  to  themselves  and  God  only,  and  the  support  afforded 
even  by  the  undeserved  opinion  of  their  fellows,  are  of  them- 
selves gi'eat  helps  to  a  moral  and  religious  life.  Many  a  one 
by  being  thought  better  than  he  was  has  become  better ;  by 
being  thought  as  bad  or  worse,  has  become  worse.  To  com- 
municate our  sins  to  those  who  have  no  right  to  know  them 
is  of  itself  a  diminution  of  our  moral  strength. 

To  conclude,  the  errors  and  evils  of  casuistry  may  be 
summed  up  as  follows :  It  makes  that  abstract  which  is  con- 
crete, scientific  which  is  contingent,  artificial  which  is  natural, 
positive  which  is  moral,  theoretical  which  is  intuitive  and 
immediate.  It  puts  the  parts  in  the  place  of  the  whole,  ex- 
ceptions in  the  place  of  rules,  system  in  the  place  of  expe- 
rience, dependence  in  the  place  of  responsibility,  reflection  in 
the  place  of  conscience.  It  lowers  the  heavenly  to  the  eaith- 
ly,  the  principles  of  men  to  their  practice,  the  tone  of  the 
preacher  to  the  standard  of  oixiinary  life.  It  sends  us  to 
another  for  that  which  can  only  be  found  in  ouj'selves.  It 
leaves  the  highway  of  public  opinion,  to  wander  in  the  laby- 
rinths of  an  imaginary  science  ;  the  light  of  the  world,  for 
the  darkness  of  the  closet.  It  is  to  human  nature  what 
anatomy  is  to  our  bodily  frame ;  instead  of  a  moral  and 
B{uritual  being,  preserving  only  "  a  body  of  death.** 


ON  THE  CONNECTION  OF  IMMORALITY  AND 
IDOLATRY. 

Br   BENJAMIN  JOWETT. 


•*  An  idol  is  nothing  in  the  world,"  says  the  Apostle  ;  "  yet 
he  that  commits  fornication  sins  against  his  own  body."  It  is 
foolishness  to  bow  to  an  idol ;  but  immorality  and  licentious- 
ness are  real  and  essential  evil.  No  mere  outward  act  can 
make  a  man  different  from  what  he  was  before,  while  no  in- 
ward act  can  leave  him  the  same  after  as  before  its  perform- 
ance. A  belief  about  Jupiter  or  Hades  is  not  necessarily 
inconsistent  with  truth  and  purity  of  life.  The  evils,  whether 
of  a  heathen  or  of  a  Christian  country,  are  not  always  asso- 
ciated with  the  corruptions  of  religion.  Whence,  then,  the 
connection  often  spoken  of  by  theologians,  and  not  unfelt  by 
the  heathen  themselves,  between  immorality  and  idolatry  ? 

It  is  first  to  be  sought  for  in  their  origin.  As  the  Chris- 
tian religion  may  be  regarded  as  the  great  pillar  and  rock  of 
morahty,  so  the  heathen  religions  sprang  up  in  an  age  prior 
to  morality.  We  see  men,  in  the  dawn  of  the  world's  history, 
just  raised  above  the  worship  of  stocks  and  stones,  "  making 
themselves  gods  to  go  before  them."  These  gods  represent 
partly  the  maxims  and  opinions  of  uncivilized  races,  partly 
the  actions  and  passions  of  mankind  in  general,  partly  the 
irregularity  of  the  course  of  the  world  itself,  the  fearful  law 
of  which  is  the  wayward  fancy  of  heaven.  Must  not  such 
an  enthronement  of  injustice  above  tend  to  confuse  and  stunt 
the  natural  ideas  of  morality  ?     The  God  who  had  possession 


822    CONNECTION  OF  IMMORALITY  AND  IDOLATRY. 

of  the  heart  of  man  was  a  half  physical,  half  demoniacal, 
and  in  part  also  human,  being,  who  represented  the  vices  of 
mankind  on  an  ideal  stage  in  aggravated  proportions,  yet  not 
without  a  certain  affinity  to  man  himself.  The  worst  side  of 
humanity,  the  false  notion  of  the  order  of  the  world,  the 
capricious  passions  of  individuals,  the  enmities  of  nations, 
were  deified  and  perpetuated  in  him.  Human  natui-e  grew 
and  human  beings  spread  over  the  earth ;  but  they  carried 
with  them,  wherever  they  went,  the  weary  load  of  super- 
stition, the  chains  of  servitude  to  their  former  beliefs,  with 
which  their  separate  existence  as  a  nation  seemed  to  be  bound 
up.  Far  otherwise  would  it  have  been  if  the  good  of  states, 
or  the  dictates  of  natural  feeling  and  affection,  had  been  made 
the  standard  to  which  religion  was  to  conform.  And  accord- 
ingly it  has  everywhere  happened,  that,  as  reflection  has 
gained  ground,  or  civilization  spread,  mankind  have  risen  up 
against  the  barbarities  of  early  mythology,  either  openly  dis- 
owning them  or  secretly  explaining  them  away ;  and  thus  in 
either  case  bearing  witness  that  idolatry  is  not  on  a  level 
with  man's  reason,  but  below  it.  In  the  case  of  the  Greeks, 
especially,  many  of  the  grosser  forms  of  religion  disappeared 
from  the  light  of  day  into  the  seclusion  of  the  mysteries. 

But  the  connection  between  idolatry  and  immorality  does 
not  arise  merely  out  of  the  degradation  of  the  nature  of  God, 
or  the  consecration  of  the  vices  of  one  age,  as  examples  for 
another.  Idolatry  is  a  sort  of  religious  passion,  almost  on  a 
level  with  a  physical  want,  wliich  from  time  to  time  bursts 
forth  and  gives  rein  to  every  other  passion.  In  the  presence 
of  the  gods  themselves  in  the  idol's  temple,  as  the  festive 
pomp  passes,  or  the  mystic  hymn  sounds,  there  is  a  place  for 
sensuality.  It  is  not  repugnant,  but  acceptable  to  them,  and 
a  part  of  their  service.  Impure  religious  rites  are  not  the 
invention  of  magicians  or  priests,  but  deeply  rooted  in  human 
nature  itself.  Like  every  other  impulse  of  man,  sensual  love 
seeks  to  find  expression,  and  perceives  likenesses  and  resem- 
blances of  itself  in  the  world  around.  It  is  one  of  the  ele- 
ments of  nature-worsliip,  consecrated  by  antiquity,  and  in 


CONNECTION  OF  IMMORALITY  AND  IDOLATRY.    323 

later  times  graced  and  half  concealed  by  art.  The  deification 
of  it  belongs  to  the  earliest,  simplest,  grossest  forms  of  human 
belief.  The  introduction  of  the  Bacchanalia  at  a  compara- 
tively late  period  in  the  history  of  Greece,  and  the  attempted 
mtroduction  of  them  at  Rome,  is  an  indication  of  the  partial 
reawakening  of  the  same  religious  passions  when  older  modes 
of  faith  failed  to  satisfy  them.  Yet  more  monstrous  forms  of 
fcvil  arose  when  in  things  not  to  be  named  men  seemed  to  see 
A  likeness  to  the  operations  and  powers  of  nature.  The 
civilized  Greek  and  Roman  knew  well  that  there  were  fren- 
lies  of  religious  licentiousness  unworthy  of  a  rational  being, 
improper  and  dangerous  for  a  government  to  allow.  As  East 
and  West  met  and  mingled,  the  more  did  these  strange  rites 
spread  themselves,  passing  from  Egypt  and  Phoenicia  to 
Greece,  fi'om  the  mountains  of  Phrygia  to  the  streets  and 
temples  of  Rome. 

But,  besides  this  direct  connection  between  idolatry  and 
every  form  of  moral  evil,  there  is  also  an  indirect  and  general 
influence  which  it  exercised,  even  in  its  better  form,  adverse 
to  morality.  Not  from  religion,  but  from  philosophy,  come 
the  iiigher  £vspirai:ons  of  the  human  scul  in  Greece  and  Rome. 
Idoltitiy  detains  men  in  the  world  of  sight ;  it  offers  an  out- 
ward yorm  to  the  eye  and  imagery  to  the  fancy  ;  it  draws  the 
many-ooioi  ed  veil  of  art  over  the  corruption  oi  human  nature. 
It  heals  i.ho  strHe  of  man  with  himself  superficially.  It  takes 
away  tho  t-oiiscioris  want  of  the  higher  life,  but  leaves  the  real 
need.  But  moraliiy  has  to  do  with  an  unseen  world  :  it  has 
no  form  nor  coniolme^s,  when  separated  from  the  hope  which 
the  Gospel  hoidb  ont ;  It  is  severe  and  stoical  in  its  demands. 
It  tells  men  to  look  witian  ;  it  deepens  the  battle  with  self. 
It  presents  duty  almost  as  i:n  abstraction  whicli  in  the  face 
of  death  they  must  pursue,  though  there  be  no  reward  here, 
though  their  name  perish  for  evermore.  The  spirit  of  all 
idolatry  is  the  very  opposite  of  this ;  it  bids  men  rest  in 
this  world,  it  pacifies  them  about  another.  The  nature  of 
God,  who  is  the  ideal  and  perfection  of  all  morality,  it  lowers 
to  the  level  of  mai ;  the  virtue   which  is  above,  the  truth 


824        CONNECTION    OF  IMMORALITY   AND    IDOLATRY. 

which  IS  beyond  us,  it  embodies  in  the  likeness  of  the  human 
form,  or  the  wayward  and  grotesque  fancies  of  the  human 
mind.  It  bids  us  seek  without  for  what  can  only  be  found 
within. 

There  remains  yet  a  further  parallel  to  be  drawn  between 
immorality  and  idolatry  in  the  age  in  which  St.  Paul  himself 
lived,  when  the  ancient  religions  had  already  begun  to  be 
discredited  and  explained  away.  At  this  time  they  had  be- 
come customs  rather  than  beliefs,  —  maxims  of  state,  rather 
than  opinions.  It  is,  indeed,  impossible  to  determine  how  far 
in  any  minds  they  commanded  respect,  or  how  much  of  the 
reverence  that  was  refused  to  established  modes  of  woi*ship 
was  accorded  to  the  claims  of  newly-imported  deities.  They 
were  in  harmony  with  the  outer  world  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
—  that  is,  with  its  laws,  institutions,  traditions,  buildings ;  but 
strangely  out  of  harmony  with  its  inner  life.  No  one  turned 
to  the  mythology  of  Greece  and  Rome  to  find  a  rule  of  life. 
Perhaps  no  one  had  ever  done  so,  but  now  least  of  all.  Their 
hold  was  going  or  gone ;  there  was  a  space  in  the  mind  of 
man  which  they  could  not  longer  fill  up,  in  which  Stoic  and 
Epicurean  philosophers  were* free  to  walk  ;  the  chill  darkness 
of  which  might  receive  a  ray  of  light  and  warmth  from  the 
Alexandrian  mystic ;  where,  too,  true  voices  of  philosophy 
and  experience  might  faintly  make  themselves  heard,  and  the 
heart  ask  itself  and  find  its  own  solution  of  the  problem, 
**  "What  is  truth  ? "  In  all  tliis  latter  period  the  relation  of 
morality  to  religion  might  be  said  to  be  one  of  separation  and 
antagonism.  And,  upon  the  whole,  this  very  freedom  was 
favorable  to  right  and  truth.  It  is  difficult  to  determine  how 
far  the  spectacle  of  a  religion  which  has  outlived  its  time 
may  corrupt  the  moral  sense,  how  far  the  nocessary  disbelief 
of  an  existing  superstition  tends  to  weaken  and  undermine 
the  intellectual  faculties  of  mankind ;  but  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  it  does  so  less  than  if  it  were  still  believed,  and 
still  ministered  to  the  sensuality  or  ignorance  of  the  world. 


THE  OLD   TESTAMENT. 


By  benjamin  JOWETT. 

HpUu  b*  hv  iTnarpfylrrj  irpos  KvpioVf  irepiaipelrai  to  KoXv/xfia.  —  2  Cor, 
iiL  16. 

Thus  we  have  reached  another  stage  in  the  development 
of  the  great  theme.  The  new  commandment  has  become 
old ;  faith  is  taught  in  the  Book  of  the  Law.  "  Abraham 
had  faith  in  God,  and  it  was  counted  to  him  for  righteous- 
ness." David  spoke  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  in  the  very- 
spirit  of  the  Gospel.  The  Old  Testament  is  not  dead,  but 
alive  again.  It  refers  not  to  .the  past,  but  to  the  present. 
There  are  the  truths  that  we  feel  most  deeply  written  for  our 
instruction.  There  are  the  consciousness  of  sin,  and  the 
sense  of  acceptance.  There  is  the  veiled  remembrance  of  a 
former  world,  which  is  also  the  veiled  image  of  a  future  one. 

To  us  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  are  two  books,  or  two 
parts  of  the  same  book,  which  fit  into  one  another,  and  can 
never  be  separated  or  torn  asunder.  They  double  one 
against  the  other,  and  the  New  Testament  is  the  revelation 
of  the  Old.  To  the  first  believers  it  was  otherwise :  as  yet 
there  was  no  New  Testament ;  nor  is  there  any  trace  that 
the  authors  of  the  New  Testament  ever  expected  their  own 
^vriting3  to  be  placed  on  a  level  with  the  Old.  We  can 
scarcely  imagine  what  would  have  been  the  feeling  of  St. 
Paul,  could  he  have  foreseen  that  later  ages  would  look,  not 
to  the  faith  of  Abraham  in  the  Law,  but  to  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  as  the  highest  authority  on  the  doctrine  of  justifica- 
tion by  faith  ;  or  that  they  would  have  regarded  the  allegory 
28 


326  THE   OLD   TESTAMENT. 

of  Hagar  and  Sarah,  in  the  Galatians,  as  a  difficulty  to  be 
resolved  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Apostle.  Neither  he  who 
wrote,  nor  those  to  whom  he  wrote,  could  ever  have  thought, 
that  words  which  were  meant  for  a  particular  church  were  to 
give  life  also  to  all  mankind ;  and  that  the  Epistles  in  which 
they  occurred  were  one  day  to  be  placed  on  a  level  with  the 
Books  of  Moses  themselves. 

But  if  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament  were  regjirded 
by  the  contemporaries  of  the  Apostle  in  a  manner  different 
from  that  of  later  ages,  there  was  a  difference  which  it  is  far 
more  difficult  for  us  to  appreciate,  in  their  manner  of  reading 
the  Old  Testament  To  them  it  was  not  half,  but  the  whole, 
needing  nothing  to  be  added  to  it  or  to  counteract  it,  but  con- 
taining everything  in  itself.  It  seemed  to  come  home  to 
them ;  to  be  meant  specially  for  their  age ;  to  be  understood 
by  them  as  its  words  had  never  been  understood  before. 
*'  Did  not  their  hearts  burn  within  them  ?  "  as  the  Apostles 
expounded  to  them  the  Psalms  and  Prophets.  The  manner 
of  this  exposition  was  that  of  the  age  in  which  they  lived. 
They  brought  to  the  understanding  of  it,  not  a  knowledge  of 
the  volume  of  the  New  Testament,  but  the  mind  of  Christ. 
Sometimes  they  found  the  lesson  which  they  sought  in  the 
plain  language  of  Scripture ;  at  other  times,  coming  round  to 
the  same  lesson  by  the  paths  of  allegory,  or  seeming  even  in 
the  sound  of  a  word  to  catcli  an  echo  of  the  Redeemer's 
name.  Various  as  are  the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament, 
composed  by  such  numerous  authors,  at  so  many  different 
time.-»,  so  diverse  in  style  and  subject,  in  them  all  they  read 
only  —  the  truth  of  Christ,  They  read  witliout  distinctions  of 
moral  and  ceremonial,  type  and  antitype,  history  or  prophecy, 
witliout  critical  inquiries  into  the  original  meaning  of  passages, 
without  theories  of  the  relation  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments. Whatever  contrast  existed  was  of  another  kind,  not 
of  the  parts  of  a  book,  but  of  the  law  and  faith  ;  of  the  earlier 
and  later  dispensations.  The  words  of  the  book  were  all 
equally  for  their  instruction;  the  whole  volume  lighted  up 
with  now  meaning. 


THE    OLD    TESTAMENT.  327 

They  read  the  Old  Testament  after  the  manner  of  their 
age,  and  found  every  verse  suggestive  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  Church,  and  of  the  life  and  death  of  Christ.  Are  we 
doing  more  than  following  their  example,  if  we  read  the 
Scriptures  by  the  light  of  those  principles,  whether  of  criti- 
cism or  of  morality,  which,  in  our  own  age,  we  cannot  but 
feel  and  know,  and  of  which  it  is  as  impossible  for  us  to  divest 
ourselves,  as  it  would  have  been  for  them  to  fail  of  seeing 
Christ  in  the  lives  of  the  Patriarchs  ? 


ON  THE  QUOTATIONS  FROM  THE  OLD  TES- 
TAMENT IN  THE  NEW. 

By   benjamin   JOWETT. 


The  New  Testament  is  ever  old,  and  the  Old  is  ever  en- 
twined with  the  New.  Not  only  are  the  types  of  the  Old 
Testament  shadows  of  good  things  to  come ;  not  only  are  the 
narratives  of  events  and  lives  of  persons  in  Jewish  history 
"  written  for  our  instruction  " ;  not  only  is  there  a  deep-rooted 
identity  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  in  the  revelation  of 
one  God  of  perfect  justice  and  truth ;  not  only  is  "  the  law 
fulfilled  in  Christ  to  all  them  that  believe  "  ;  not  only  are  the 
spiritual  Israel  the  true  people  of  God  :  a  still  nearer,  though 
more  superficial  connection  is  formed  by  the  volume  of  the 
Old  Testament  itself,  which,  like  some  closely-fitting  vesture, 
enfolds  the  new  as  well  as  the  old  dispensation  in  its  language 
and  imagery,  the  words  themselves,  as  well  as  the  thoughts 
contained  in  them,  becoming  instinct  with  a  new  life,  and 
seeming  to  interpenetrate  with  the  Gospel. 

This  verbal  connection  of  new  and  old  is  not  peculiar  to 
Christianity.  All  nations  who  have  ancient  writings  have 
endeavored  to  read  in  them  the  riddle  of  the  past.  The 
Brahmin,  repeating  his  Vedic  hymns,  sees  them  pervaded  by 
a  thousand  meanings,  which  have  been  handed  down  by  tra- 
dition :  the  one  of  which  he  is  ignorant  is  that  which  we 
perceive  to  be  the  true  one.  Without  more  reason,  and 
almost  with  an  equal  disregard  or  neglect  of  its  natural  im- 
port, the  Jewish  Alexandrian  and  Rabbinical  writers  analyzed 

28* 


830  QUOTATIONS    FROM    THE 

the  Old  Testament;  in  a  similar  spirit  Gnostics  and  Neo- 
platonists  cited  lines  of  Homer  or  Pindar.  Not  unlike  is  the 
"way  in  which  the  F'athers  cite  both  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment ;  and  the  manner  in  which  the  writers  of  the  New 
Testiiment  quote  from  the  Old  has  more  in  common  with  this 
last  than  with  modern  critical  interpretations  of  either.  That 
is  to  say,  the  quotations  are  made  almost  always  without 
reference  to  the  connection  in  which  they  originally  occur, 
and  in  a  different  sense  from  that  in  which  the  Pro|)het  or 
Psalmist  intended  them.  They  are  fragments  culled  out  and 
brought  into  some  new  combination  ;  jewels,  and  precious 
stones,  and  corner-stones  disposed  after  a  new  pattern,  to  be 
the  ornaments  of  another  temple.  It  is  their  place  in  that 
new  temple,  not  their  relation  to  the  old,  which  gives  them 
their  effect  and  meaning. 

Such  "  tessellated  work  "  was  after  the  manner  of  the  age : 
it  was  no  new  invention  or  introduction  of  the  sacred  writers. 
Closely  as  it  is  wrought  into  the  New  Testament,  it  belongs 
to  its  externals  rather  than  to  its  true  life.  There  are  few, 
if  any,  traces  of  it  in  the  discourses  of  our  Loi*d  himself, 
though  it  frequently  recurs  in  the  comments  of  the  Evan- 
gelists. The  fact  that  all  religions  which  are  possessed  of 
Bacred  books,  and  many  even  without  them,  have  passed 
through  a  like  secondary  stage,  however  different  may  have 
been  their  relation  to  the  earlier  forms  of  the  same  i*eHjnons 
from  that  in  which  the  Gospel  stands  to  the  Old  Testament, 
leads  us  to  rcgjird  tliis  verbal  connection  as  a  phenomenon  of 
the  mind  wliich  may  receive  light  from  heathen  parallels. 
There  seem  to  be  times  in  which  human  nature  yearns  toward 
the  past,  though  it  has  lost  the  power  of  interpreting  it. 
Overlooking  the  cha<;m  of  a  thousand  years,  it  seeks  to  ex- 
tract from  ancient  writings  food  for  daily  life.  The  mystery 
of  a  foi*mer  world  lies  heavy  upon  it,  hardly  less  than  of 
the  future,  and  it  lightens  this  burtlen  by  attributing  to  "them 
of  old  time "  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  contemporaries. 
It  feels  the  unity  of  God  and  man  in  all  ages,  and  it  attempts 
to  prove  this  unity  by  reading  the  same  thoughts  in  every 


OLD    TESTAMENT    IN    THE    NEW.  831 

word  which  has  been  uttered  from  the  beginning.  Even  the 
words  themselves  it  will  sometimes  alter  in  conformity  with 
the  new  spirit  which  appears  to  pervade  them. 

The  Gnostic  and  Alexandrian  writings  are  a  meeting-point 
between  the  past  and  the  future,  in  which  the  present  is  lost 
sight  of,  and  ideas  supersede  facts.  But  something  analogous 
is  observable  in  the  New  Testament  itself;  which  may  be 
described  also  as  the  meeting-point  of  past  and  future  on  the 
ground  of  the  present,  taking  its  origin,  not  from  ideas,  but 
facts.  The  mode  of  thought  of  the  age  by  which  the  old  is 
ever  new,  and  the  new  ever  entwined  with  the  old,  is  common 
to  both ;  and  language,  equally  with  thought,  seems  to  relax 
its  bonds,  and  lose  those  harder  lines  of  demarcation  and 
definition  which  make  it  incapable  of  spiritual  life.  Grad- 
ually and  naturally,  as  it  were  a  soul  entering  into  a  body 
that  had  been  prepared  for  it,  the  new  takes  the  form  of  the 
old.  Yet  the  very  truth  and  power  of  the  Gospel  prevent 
this  new  creation  from  resembling  the  fantastic  process  of 
Eastern  heresy.  The  writers  of  the  New  Testament  adopt 
the  modes  of  speech  and  citation  of  their  age,  but  they  also 
ennoble  and  enlighten  them.  That  traces  of  their  age  should 
appear  in  them  is  the  necessary  condition  of  their  speaking 
to  the  men  of  their  age.  To  mankind  then,  as  to  individuals 
now,  God  would  have  us  speak  in  a  language  that  they  can 
understand.  ^ 

Still,  however  striking  may  be  the  superficial  similarity, 
essential  differences  he  beneath.  There  are  three  points 
which  may  be  said  to  distinguish  the  manner  in  which  the 
Old  Testament  is  quoted  in  the  New,  from  the  manner  in 
which  early  poets  are  quoted  by  heathen  writers,  or  the 
Old  Testament  itself  by  Alexandrian  or  Christian  authors. 
First,  the  Old  Testament  looks  forward  to  the  New,  as  the 
New  Testament  looks  backward  on  the  Old.  Reading  the 
Psalmists  or  Prophets,  even  with  the  veil  on  our  eyes,  which 
was  also  on  theirs,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  they  were  pil- 
grims and  strangers,  looking  for  more  than  was  on  the  earth, 
whose   sadness   was   not   yet   turned   into  joy.     There   are 


832  QUOTATIONS   FROM   THE 

passages  in  which  the  Old  Testament  goes  beyond  itself,  in 
which  it  almost  seems  to  renounce  itself;  even  solitary  ex- 
pressions, of  which  it  might  be  said,  either  in  Christian  or 
heathen  language,  "  that  it  speaks  not  of  itself" ;  or,  that 
"  its  voice  reaches  to  a  thousand  years."  It  is  otherwise  with 
heathen  hterature.  There  is  no  future  to  which  Homer  or 
Hesiod  looked  forward ;  no  higher  moral  truth  beyond  them 
selves  which  they  dimly  see.  The  life  of  the  world  was  not 
to  awaken  in  their  song.  They  were  poetry  only,  out  of 
which  came  stiitues  of  gods  and  heroes.  Secondly,  if  the 
connection  between  the  Old  and  New  Testament  be  on  the 
surface  arbitrary,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  age,  that  deeper  connection  which  lies  below  is 
founded  on  reason  and  conscience.  The  language  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  Old  Testament  is  the  natural,  may  we  not 
say  the  most  true  and  inward,  expression  of  Christian  feeling. 
In  the  hour  of  sorrow,  or  joy,  or  repentance,  or  triumph,  m'Q 
seem  to  turn  to  the  Old  Testament  even  more  readily  than 
to  the  New.  Thirdly  and  lastly,  not  to  speak  of  the  great 
difference  in  degree,  a  difference  in  kind  is  observable  be- 
tween the  way  in  which  quotations  are  made  use  of  by  the 
Alexandrian  writers  and  in  the  New  Testament,  In  the  one 
they  are  the  form  of  thought ;  in  the  other,  the  mode  of  ex- 
pression. That  is  to  say,  while  in  the  one  they  exercise  an 
influence  on  the  thought ;  in  tlie  other,  they  are  controlled  by 
it,  and  are  but  a  sort  of  incrustation  on  it,  or  ornament  of  it ; 
in  some  cases  the  illustration  or  allegory  through  which  it  is 
conveyed.  The  writings  of  St.  Paul  are  not  the  less  one  in 
feeling  and  spirit  because  the  language  in  which  he  con- 
tinually clothes  his  thoughts  is  either  avowedly  or  uncon- 
sciously taken  from  the  Old  Testament. 

Even  in  our  own  use  of  quotations  we  may  observe  a  sort 
of  necessary  inconsistency  which  illustrates  the  mode  of  cita- 
tion in  the  New  Testament.  We  resort  to  quotation  not  only 
OS  an  ingenious  device  for  expressing  our  meaning ;  it  is  also 
an  appeal  to  an  authority.  And  yet  its  point  or  force  fre- 
quMitly  consists  in  a  slight,  or  even  a  great,  deviation  from 


OLD    TESTAMENT    IN    THE    NEW.  333 

the  sense  in  which  a  quotation  was  uttered  bj  its  author. 
Its  aptness  lies  in  its  being  at  once  old  and  new ;  often  in 
bringing  into  juxtaposition  things  so  remote,  that  we  should 
not  have  imagined  they  were  connected  ;  sometimes  in  a  word 
rather  than  in  a  sentence,  even  in  the  substitution  of  a  word, 
or  in  a  logical  inference  not  wholly  warranted. 

Something  analogous  to  this  we  find  in  the  quotations  of 
the  New  Testament.  They  unite  a  kind  of  authority  with  a 
new  interpretation  of  the  passage  quoted.  Sometimes  the 
application  of  them  is  a  sort  of  argument  from  their  exact 
rhetorical  or  even  grammatical  form.  Their  connection  often 
hangs  upon  a  word,  and  there  are  passages  in  which  the  word 
on  which  the  connection  turns  is  itself  inserted.  There  are 
citations  too,  which  are  a  composition  of  more  than  one 
passage,  in  which  the  spirit  is  taken  from  one  and  the  words 
from  another.  There  are  other  citations  in  which  a  simi- 
larity of  spirit,  rather  than  of  language,  is  caught  up  and 
made  use  of  by  the  Apostle.  There  are  passages  which  are 
altered  to  suit  the  meaning  given  to  them ;  or  in  which  the 
spirit  of  the  New  Testament  is  substituted  for  that  of  the 
Old;  or  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament  expands  into  that 
of  the  New.  Lastly,  there  are  passages,  though  but  few  of 
them  occur  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  which  have  one  sense 
in  the  Old  Testament,  and  have  an  entirely  different  or 
opposite  one  in  the  New.  Almost  all  gradations  occur  be- 
tween exact  verbal  correspondence  with  the  Greek  of  the 
LXX. ;  and  discrepancy  in  which  resemblance  is  all  but  lost : 
between  the  greatest  similarity  and  difference,  almost  oppo- 
sition, of  spirit  in  the  original  passage  and  its  application. 
In  no  passage  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  is  there  any 
certain  evidence  that  the  first  connection  was  present  to  the 
Apostle's  mind. 

The  quotations  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul  may  be  classi- 
fied under  the  following  heads:  — 

I.  Passages  in  which  (a.)  the  meaning,  and  (^.)  the  words 
of  the  Old  Testament  are  altered,  or  (y.)  both  :  the  altera- 
tions, sometimes  arising  from  no  assignable  cause,  sometimes 
from  a  composition  of  passages. 


334  QUOTATIONS    FROM    THE 

II.  Passages  in  wliich  (a.)  the  spirit  or  (/3.)  the  language  of 
the  Old  Testament  is  exactly  retained,  or  with  no  grejiter 
variation  of  words  than  may  be  supjwsed  to  arise  out  of  dif- 
ference of  texts,  and  no  greater  diversity  of  spirit  than  neces- 
sarily arises  from,  the  transfer  of  any  passage  in  the  Old 
Testament  into  anotlier  connection  in  the  New. 

III.  Allegoriciil  passages. 

I.  (1.)  An  instance  in  which  the  meaning  of  the  quotation 
has  been  altered,  and  also  in  which  the  new  meaning  given 
to  it  is  derived  from  another  passage,  occurs  in  Rom.  ii.  24 : 
TO  yap  ovofia  tov  dfov  8i  Vfias  ^Xaarcprjixdrai  iv  Tois  edvfaiv  •  where 
the  Apostle  is  speaking  of  the  scandal  caused  by  the  violence 
and  hypocrisy  of  the  Jews.     The  words  are  taken  from  Isa. 

lii.  5  :   di   Vfias  dmiratrrbs  to  ovofid  /xou  fi\aa<f)T)fx« irai  «v  Tois  ($vf<Ti  * 

where,  however,  they  refer,  not  to  the  sins  of  the  house  of 
Israel,  but  to  their  sufferings  at  the  hand  of  their  enemies. 
The  turn  which  the  Apostle  has  given  the  passage  is  gathered 
from  Ezek.  xxxvi.  21  -23  :  koI  t(f)(i<rdfiT)v  ai/ruv  did  to  ovofid 
/tov  TO  ayiov  6  f^t^qXaxrav  oikos  ^IcrpafjX  ev  To7i  (6utaiv  ov  cicr^X- 
3o<rap  fVft,  K.  r.  X. 

A  composition  of  passages  occurs  also  in  Rom.  xi.  8,  which 
appears  to  be  a  union  of  Isa.  vi.  9,  10  and  xxix.  10.  The 
play  upon  the  word  *Btn}  (nations  =  Gentiles)  is  repeated  in 
Rom.  iv.  17  (Gen.  xvii.  5),  Gal.  iii.  8  (Gen.  xii.  3). 

(2.)  A  similar  instance  in  which  the  general  tone  of  a 
quotation  is  taken  from  one  passage,  and  a  few  words  added 
from  another,  is  to  be  found  in  Rom.  ix.  33 :  liov  TiBrffu  «y 
Ziotv  \idov  irpoiTKOftfiaTos  koI  irtTpav  o-xavduXov  Koi  6  irioTtvutv  cV 
avT^  ov  KaTai<rxvfBt)<rfTai.  The  greater  part  of  this  passage 
occurs  in  Isa.  xxviii.  16  :  tdov  iyit  tfA^dWia  tls  rd  $*ni\ia  2(«^» 
\i$ov  troXvTt'Xfjy  tiiXtKTOVy  aKpoytavtalov^  (firrifiov^  th  to  BtfttXia  avjijtt 
Koi  6  ni(rTfv<i>v  ov  p.q  KaTaiaxi/vdrj.  15 ut  the  words  Xt^ov  npotr' 
Kdfifiarof  are  intro<luoed  i'rom  Isa.  viii.  14.  And  the  remainder 
of  the  passage  (*ai  ....  icorai(rxvv^^<r«Tai)  is  really  inconsist- 
ent with  these  words,  though  l)oth  parts  are  harmonized  in 
Him  who  is  in  one  sense  a  stumbling-stone  and  rock  of  of- 
fence ;  in  another,  a  foundation-stone  and  chief  comer-stone. 


OLD    TESTAMENT    IN    THE    NEW.  335 

(3.)  A  slighter  example  of  alteration  occurs  in  1  Cor.  iii. 
19,  where  the  Apostle  quotes  from  Ps.  xciv.  11 :  Kvpios  yivca- 
arK€i  T0V5  dioKoyiafxovs  rav  (rocfxov  on  elfrl  fiaraiot..  Here  the 
words  rmv  aocfiaiv  are  substituted  for  tSp  avdnconayv  in  the 
LXX.,  which  in  this  passage  agrees  with  the  Hebrew.  They 
are  required  to  connect  the  quotation  in  the  Epistle  with  the 
previous  verses.  A  similar  instance  of  the  introduction  of  a 
word  (nas)  on  which  the  point  of  an  argument  turns,  occurs 
in  Rom.  X.  11  :   Xe'yei  yap  f]  ypa(pr)  •    Tray   6  Triareixou  Itt   avra    ov 

KaTai(Txvvdrj(T€Tat  •  where  the  addition  is  the  more  remarkable, 
as  the  Apostle  had  quoted  the  words  without  nds  a  few  verses 
previously. 

(4.)  Another  instance  of  addition,  rather  than  alteration,  is 
furnished  by  1  Cor.  xiv.  21  :   ev  rS  poixm  yeypanrai  •  on  Iv  erepo- 
yXdxrtTois  koI   Iv  ;^ft'X6(7ti'  irepcou  \a\rjcrai   ra   XaS   tovto),   koi  ovd 
ovTcos  ela-aKovcrourai  /xou,  Xe'yei  Kvpios.      This   quotation,  which  is 

said  to  be  "  written  in  the  law  "  (comp.  John  x.  34,  xii.  34, 
XV.  2o),  is  from  Isa.  xxviii.  11,  12,  where  the  words  in  the 

liXX.  are  8ia  (pavXiaixov  ;^fiX€Q)i/,  dia  yXaxro-J/s  irepas,  on  XaXi7- 
(Tova-i  TG)  Xao)  Tovro),  and  in  the  English  translation,  "  with 
stammering  lips  and  another  tongue  will  he  speak  unto  this 
people."  But  the  last  words,  ovS'  ovras  elo-aKova-ovrai,  are 
taken  from  the  following  verse,  where  a  clause  nearly  similar 
occurs  in  a  different  connection  :  Xeyovres  avrols,  tovto  to  dvd' 
navfxa  roJ  neivatvn^  Koi  tovto  to  avvTpi.p,fxay  Ka\   ovk  r]dc\T]crav  a/cou- 

tiu,  V.  12.  The  whole  is  referred  by  the  Apostle  to  the  gift  of 
tongues,  which  he  infers  from  this  passage  "to  be  a  sign 
to  unbelievers." 

(5.)  An  adaptation,  which  has  led  to  an  alteration  ol 
words,  occurs  in  Rom.  x.  6  -  9  :  17  8c  ck  iria-Teas  diKaioavvrj 
ovTa>  Xe'yei  *  fif]  eiTTijs  iv  ttj  Kap8ia  aov  '  Tis  dva^rjo-fTat  els  top 
ovpavou ;  tovt  ecrri  xpicTTov  KaTayayeiv  •  1}  tIs  KaTa^r]a€Tat  ets 
rfju  a^vaa-ov ;  tovt  ecTTi  ;^/31ot6i'  ex  veKpau  duayayelu.  dWa  rt 
Xcyet ;  tyyi/y  (tov  to  p^jfid  eaTiv^  iv  tu>  (rTOfiaTL  aov  koi  iv  ttj  Kap- 
dia  (TOV  '  TovT^  eoTi  to  prjp.a  Ttji  TTiorecos,  6  Krjpvcraopev  •  ort  €ai» 
6pokoyr}(rTjs  iv  ra  CTTOfiaTL  crov  Kvpiov  'lijcrovv,  Koi  nicrTevcrDS  iv  r^ 
Kapdia  aov  on  6  6ebs  avTov  fjyupiv  iic  veKpSv,  croiBrja-ji.      The  Sub- 


836  QUOTATIONS    FROM   THE 

Stance  of  this  passage  is  taken  from  Deut.  xxx.  11  -14  :  Sn  fj 
fVToXq  avTT)  fiv  eyo)  em-fWofxai  <roi  afffitpov  oix.  vtrepoyKOs  eariv^  ovdi 
fiOKpav  airo  <rov  iariv  •  ovk  iv  rto  ovpav^  avta  eWi,  \iy<ov  •  rir  ava- 
fifjafTai  fjfiiv  <is  Tou  ovpcivov,  Koi  X^>^frat  rjpiv  avrfjUj  Koi  aKovaavra 
avrfjv  TTuifjo-ofifv ;  ov8(  nipuu  T^y  $a\a.iT(Tr]s  fori,  Xtyotv  •  ris  StoTTf- 
omrfi  fjpuv  (Is  TO  tripav  r^y  ^aXaercn/y,  Kat  \a^Sri  fjulv  avr^p^  Koi 
aKovaTfjv  f)fuu  notfjarr}  avrrjv,  Ka\  noifjoroprv  ;  (yyvs  <tov  «m  to  prjpn 
(r(f)6dpa,  (V  rw  oTopaTi  <tov  /cat  cV  tjj  Kapb'ta  (tov  koi  (v  raii  X'P^^ 
<roVf  noie'iv  avTo.  To  these  vei"ses  the  Apostle  has  added  what 
may  be  termed  a  running  commentary,  applying  them  to 
Christ  To  make  the  words  mpav  rrjs  6a\aa(njs  thus  appli- 
cable, the  Apostle  has  altered  them  to  (h  rfju  a^vaaov^  a 
change  which  we  should  hesitate  to  attribute  to  him,  but  for 
the  other  examples  which  have  been  already  quoted  of  similar 
changes.  (Compare  also  Rom.  xi.  8;  xii.  19;  Eph.  v.  14. 
The  latter  passage,  in  which  the  name  of  Christ  is  introduced 
as  here,  being  probably  an  adaptation  of  Isa.  Ix.  1.)  Con- 
sidering the  frequency  of  such  changes,  it  would  be  contrary 
to  the  rules  of  sound  criticism  to  attribute  the  introduction  of 
the  words  to  a  difference  of  text  in  the  Old  Testament, 

(6.)  The  words  of  1  Cor.  XV.  45,  ovTa>s  Koi  yiypanrai '  *E.y(' 
vrro  6  Trpwros  'Ada/A  tU  ^vx^v  (ciaav  •  6  taxaros  *Ada/i  tli  wtvfM 
C<aonoiovvt  afford  a  remarkable  instance  of  discrepancy,  both 
in  words  and  meaning,  from  Gen.  ii.  7  :  iuttpCarjafp  tls  to 
vpSaoirrov  avTov  nvorjv  C^fjs '  xai  eye  vrro  6  AvOptnroi  (Is  ^vx^l* 
C^aap  •  to  the  two  clauses  of  which  the  Afiostle  appears  to 
have  applied  a  distinction  analogous  to  that  which  Philo 
draws  (De  Legum  Alleg.,  I.  12;  De  Creat.  Mun.,  24,46) 
between  the  earthly  and  the  heavenly  man  (Gen.  ii.  7  and 
i.  27). 

II.  A  good  example  of  the  second  class  of  quotations  is 
the  passage  from  Hab.  ii.  4,  quoted  in  Rom.  i.  17  :  6  dc  dUatos 
9K  nioTtois  (fiatTat  •  which  oocurs  also  in  two  other  places, 
lleb.  X.  88,  Gal.  iii.  11,  which  the  LXX.  read,  6  di  dUaios  U 
nl(TTto»s  nov  (qatTaty  and  the  English  version  translates  from 
the  Hebrew,  "  but  the  just  shall  live  by  his  faith."  It  is 
remarkable,  that  in  Rom.  i.  17,  Gal  ilL  11,  it  should  be 


OLD    TESTAMENT    IN    THE    NEW.  337 

quoted  in  the  same  manner,  and  that  shghtly  different  either 
from  the  LXX.  or  the  Hebrew ;  in  Heb.  x.  38  it  agrees  pre- 
cisely with  the  LXX.  Like  the  other  great  text  of  the 
Apostle,  "  Abraham  believed  God,  and  it  was  counted  to  him 
for  righteousness,"  it  is  an  instance  of  the  way  in  which  the 
language  of  the  Old  Testament  was  enlarged  and  univer- 
salized in  the  New ;  the  particular  faith  of  Abraham  or  of 
the  Israelite  becoming  the  type  of  faith  generally  for  all 
mankind  in  all  ages. 

Other  examples  of  the  second  class  of  quotations  are  to 
be  found  in  such  passages  as  the  following :  "  Blessed  is  the 
man  whose  iniquity  is  forgiven,  and  whose  sin  is  pardoned ; 
blessed  is  the  man  to  whom  the  Lord  doth  not  impute  sin,'* 
Rom.  iv.  7,  from  Ps.  xxxii.  1,2.  "  The  reproaches  of  them 
that  reproached  thee  fell  on  me,"  Rom.  xv.  3,  from  Ps.  Ixix. 
9.  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report  ? "  Rom.  x.  1 6,  from 
Isa.  liii.  1  ;  in  which  the  instinct  of  the  Apostle  has  caught 
the  common  spirit  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  though 
the  texts  quoted  contain  no  word  which  is  a  symbol  of  his 
doctrine. 

Passages  which  might  be  placed  under  either  head  are 
Rom.  X.  13,  "Jacob  have  I  loved,  and  Esau  have  I  hated," 
the  words  of  which  exactly  agree  with  the  LXX.,  although 
their  original  meaning  in  Mai.  i.  2,  3,  whence  they  are  taken, 
has  to  do,  not  with  the  individuals  Jacob  and  Esau,  but  with 
the  natives  of  Edom  and  Israel :  the  cento  of  quotations  in 
Rom.  iii.  descriptive  of  the  wickedness  of  the  Psalmist's 
enemies,  or  of  those  who  were  the  subjects  of  the  prophetical 
denunciations,  which  are  transferred  by  the  Apostle  to  the 
world  in  general,  Rom.  xii.  20,  "  Therefore  if  thine  enemy 
hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink ;  for  in  so  doing 
thou  shall  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head,"  the  words  of  which 
are  exactly  quoted  from  the  LXX.  (Pro v.  xxv.  21,  22), 
though  the  meaning  given  to  them  is  ironical ;  for  which 
reason  the  succeeding  clause,  "  But  the  Lord  shall  rewaid 
thee,"  which  would  have  destroyed  the .  irony,  is  omitted. 

III.  Once  more.     In  a  few  passages  only  the  Apostle,  after 
29 


838  QUOTATIONS   FROM   THE 

the  manner  of  his  time,  has  recourse  to  allegory.  Tliese  are : 
1.  The  allegory  of  the  woman  who  had  lost  her  husband,  in 
Rom.  vii. ;  2.  Of  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness,  in 
1  Cor.  X. ;  3.  Of  Hagar  and  Sarah,  in  Gal.  iii. ;  4.  Of  the 
veil  on  the  face  of  Mo>es,  in  2  Cor.  iii. ;  5.  Abraham  himself, 
who  is  a  kind  of  centre  of  allegory,  the  actions  of  whose  life, 
as  well  as  the  promises  of  God  to  him,  are  symbols  of  the 
(joming  dispensation ;  6..  The  history  of  the  patriarchs,  and 
cutting  short  of  the  house  of  Israel,  in  Rom.  ix.,  x.  Of  these 
examples,  the  first,  third,  and  fourth  are  what  we  should  terra 
illustrations ;  while  the  second,  fifth,  and  sixth  have  not  mere- 
ly an  analogous  or  metaphorical  meaning,  but  a  real  inward 
connection  with  the  life  and  state  of  the  first  believers. 

A  few  general  results  of  an  examination  of  the  quotations 
from  the  Old  Testament  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  may  be 
summed  as  follows:  — 

1.  The  whole  number  of  quotations  is  about  eighty-seven, 
of  which  about  fifty -three  are  found  in  the  Romans,  fifteen  in 
1  Corintliians,  six  in  2  Corinthians,  ten  in  Galatians,  two  in 
the  Ephesians,  one  in  1  Timothy.  Of  these  nearly  half  show 
a  precise  verbal  agreement  with  the  LXX. ;  while,  of  the 
remaining  passages,  at  least  two  thirds  exhibit  a  degree  of 
verbal  similarity  which  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  an 
acquaintance  with  the  LXX. 

2.  None  of  these  passages  offer  any  certain  proof  that  the 
Apostle  was  acquainted  with  the  Hebrew  original.  That  he 
must  have  been  acquainted  with  it  can  hardly  be  doubted 
yet  it  seems  improbable  that  he  could  have  fimiiliarly  known 
it  without  stniying  into  parallelisms  with  the  Hebrew  text,  in 
those  passages  in  which  it  varies  from  the  LXX.  His  ac- 
quaintance with  it  was  probably  of  such  a  kind  as  we  might 
acquire  of  a  version  of  the  Seripturt»8  not  in  the  vernacular. 
No  Englishman  incidentally  quoting  the  English  version  from 
memory  would  adapt  it  to  the  Greek,  though  he  might  very 
probably  adapt  the  Greek  to  the  English.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Apostle  must  have  possessed  a  minute  knowledge 
of  the  LXX.,  as  is  found  by  the  fragmentary  character  of  the 
quotations,  no  less  than  their  verbal  agreement. 


OLD    TESTAMENT   IN   THE   NEW.  339 

3.  Several  of  these  quotations  are  what  may  be  termed 
latent  quotations,  as,  for  example,  Rom.  iii.  4;  x.  18  ;  1  Cor. 
vi.  2  ;  ix.  7  ;  xv.  25,  27  ;  while  a  few  others,  as,  for  example, 
Rom.  xii.  19  ;  1  Cor.  xv.  45,  are  hardly,  if  at  all,  discernible 
in  the  text  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  very  famiharity  with 
the  Old  Testament  which  has  led  to  the  first  of  these  two 
phenomena,  may  be  in  part  also  the  cause  of  the  second.  As 
the  words  suggest  themselves  unconsciously,  so  the  spirit 
without  the  words  occasionally  comes  into  the  Apostle's  mind ; 
or  the  language  and  spirit  of  different  passages  blend  in  one. 

4.  There  is  no  evidence  that  the  Apostle  remembered  the 
verbal  connection  in  which  any  of  the  passages  quoted  by  him 
originally  occurred.  He  isolates  them  wholly  from  their  con- 
text ;  he  reasons  from  them  as  he  might  from  statements  of 
his  own,  "  going  off  upon  a  word,"  as  it  has  been  called,  in 
one  instance  almost  upon  a  letter  (Gal.  iii.  16),  drawing  in- 
ferences which  in  strict  logic  can  hardly  be  allowed,  extend- 
ing the  meaning  of  words  beyond  their  first  and  natural 
sense.  But  all  this  only  implies  that  he  uses  quotations  from 
the  Old  Testament  after  the  manner  of  his  age ;  clinging 
more  than  his  contemporaries  to  the  spirit  and  less  to  the 
letter,  his  very  inaccuracy  about  the  letter  arising  partly 
from  his  feeling  for  the  spirit. 

5.  It  seems  strange  that  the  Apostle  should  use  the  law  to 
establish  the  law,  and  at  the  same  time  condemn  the  law  by 
itself.  What  made  him  apply  one  text  to  the  law,  "  The  man 
that  doeth  these  things  shall  live  in  them,"  and  another  to  the 
Gospel,  "  The  word  is  very  nigh  unto  thee,  even  in  thy 
mouth  and  in  thy  heart  ?  "  No  answer  can  be  given  to  this 
question.  To  separate  the  Old  Testament  into  two  parts,  to 
throw  away  one  half,  and  make  the  other  the  means  of  con- 
veying the  Gospel  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers,  to  bring  forth 
from  his  treasury  things  new  and  old,  and  to  harmonize  .'ill  in 
one  spirit,  is  a  part  of  his  appointed  mission. 


FRAGMENT  ON  THE  CHARACTER  OF 
ST.  PAUL. 

By  benjamin  JOWETT. 

OiSarf  be  on  Bi*  cKrOevciav  Trjs  arapKos  evrjyyeXicrafjiTjv  v/xtj/  to  TTpoTf- 
pov,  Koi  Tov  TTdpacrpov  vp,S)v  iv  rij  crapKi  pov  •  ovk  e^ovOevrjaare  ovb€ 
e^eTTTvcrare,  dWa  as  ayyckov  Oeov  ide^aade  pe,  cos  Xpiarov  ^Irjcovv. 
—  Gal.  iv.  13,  14. 

The  narrative  of  the  Gospel  gives  no  full  or  perfect  like- 
ness of  the  character  of  the  Apostles.  Human  beings  do  not 
admit  of  being  constructed  out  of  a  single  feature ;  nor  is 
imagination  able  to  supply  details  which  are  really  wanting. 
St.  Peter  and  St.  John,  the  two  Apostles  whose  names  are 
most  prominent  in  the  Gospels  and  early  portion  of  the  Acts, 
both  seem  to  unite  two  extremes  in  the  same  person  ;  the 
character  of  St.  John  combining  gentleness  with  vehemence, 
almost  with  fierceness ;  while  in  St.  Peter  we  seem  to  trace 
rashness  and  timidity  at  once,  the  spirit  of  freedom  at  one 
period  of  his  life,  and  of  narrowness  and  exclusiveness  at 
another.  He  is  the  first  to  confess,  and  the  first  to  deny 
Christ.  Himself  the  captain  of  the  Apostles,  and  yet  want- 
ing in  the  very  qualities  necessary  to  constitute  a  leader. 
Such  extremes  may  easily  meet  in  the  same  person ;  but  we 
do  not  possess  sufficient  knowledge  to  say  how  they  were 
really  reconciled.  Each  of  the  Apostles  grew  up  to  the  ful- 
ness of  the  stature  of  the  perfect  man.  Even  those,  who  to 
us  are  little  more  than  names,  had  individual  features  as. 
lively  as  our  own  contemporaries.  But  the  mention  of  their 
sayings  or  acts  on  four  or  five  occasions  while  they  followed 
the  footsteps  of  the  Lord  on  earth,  and  then  on  two  or  three 
29^ 


842  CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL. 

occasions  soon  after  he  was  taken  from  them,  then  once  again 
after  an  interval  of  twelve  or  fourteen  years,  is  not  sufficient 
to  enable  us  to  judge  of  their  wliole  character.  We  may 
distinguish  Peter  from  John,  or  James  from  either ;  but  we 
cannot  set  them  up  as  a  study  to  be  compared  with  each 
other 

More  features  appear  of  the  character  of  St.  Paul,  yet  not 
sufficient  to  give  a  perfect  picture.  We  should  lose  the  in- 
dividuality which  we  have,  by  seeking  to  idealize  and  gen- 
eralize from  some  more  common  type  of  Christian  life.  It 
has  not  been  unusual  to  describe  St.  Paul  as  a  man  of  reso- 
lute will,  of  commanding  energy,  of  high-souled  eloquence,  of 
classic  taste.  Not  of  such  a  one  would  the  Apostle  himself 
"  have  gloried."  It  was  not  the  wisdom  of  this  world  which 
he  spoke,  but  "  the  hidden  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery." 
All  his  life  long  he  felt  himself  to  be  one  "  whose  strength 
was  perfected  in  weakness  " ;  he  was  aware  of  the  impression 
of  feebleness  which  his  own  appearance  and  discourse  made 
upon  his  converts ;  who  was  sometimes  in  weakness  and  fear 
and  trembling  before  them,  "  having  the  sentence  of  death  in 
himself,"  and  at  other  times  "in  power  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  in  much  assurance  " ;  and  so  far  from  having  one  un- 
changing purpose  or  insight,  that  though  determined  to  know 
one  thing  only,  "  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified,"  yet  in  his 
manner  of  teaching  he  wavers  between  opposite  views  or 
precepts  in  successive  verses.  He  is  ever  feeling,  if  haply 
he  may  find  them,  after  the  hearts  of  men.  He  is  carried 
away  by  sympathy,  at  times  even  for  his  opponents.  He  is 
struggling  to  express  what  is  in  process  of  revelation  to  him. 
Such  arc  some  of  the  individual  tniits  which  he  has  left  in  his 
writings ;  they  are  tniits  far  more  interesting  and  more  like 
himself  than  any  general  image  of  heroism  or  goodness. 
Whatever  other  impression  he  might  have  made  upon  us, 
could  we  have  seen  iiiin  face  to  face,  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  he  would  have  lefl  the  impression  of  what  was  remark* 
able  and  uncommon. 

There  are  questions  which  it  is  interesting  to  suggest,  even 


CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL.  843 

when  they  can  never  receive  a  perfect  and  satisfactory  an- 
swer. One  of  these  questions  may  be  asked  respecting  St. 
Paul :  "  What  was  the  relation  in  which  his  former  life  stood 
to  the  great  fact  of  his  conversion  ?  "  He  himself,  in  looking 
back  upon  the  times  in  which  he  persecuted  the  Church  of 
God,  thought  of  them  chiefly  as  an  increasing  evidence  of  the 
mercy  of  God,  which  was  afterwards  extended  to  him.  It 
seemed  so  strange  to  have  been  what  he  had  been,  and  to  be 
what  he  was.  Nor  does  our  own  conception  of  him,  in  rela- 
tion to  his  former  self,  commonly  reach  beyond  this  contrast 
of  the  old  and  new  man ;  the  persecutor  and  the  preacher 
of  the  Gospel ;  the  young  man  at  whose  feet  the  witnesses 
against  Stephen  laid  down  their  clothes,  and  the  same  Paul 
disputing  against  the  Grecians,  full  of  visions  and  revelations 
of  the  Lord,  on  whom  in  later  life  came  daily  the  care  of  all 
the  churches. 

,  Yet  we  cannot  but  admit  also  the  possibility,  or  rather  the 
probable  truth,  of  another  point  of  view.  If  there  were  any 
among  the  contemporaries  of  St.  Paul  who  had  known  him 
in  youth  and  in  age,  they  would  have  seen  similarities  such  as 
escape  us  in  the  character  of  the  Apostle  at  different  periods 
of  his  life.  The  zealot  against  the  Gospel  might  have  seemed 
to  them  transfigured  into  the  opponent  of  the  law ;  they 
would  have  found  something  in  common  in  the  Pharisee  of 
the  Pharisees,  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  and  the 
man  who  had  a  vow  oh  his  last  journey  to  Jerusalem.  And 
when  they  heard  the  narrative  of  his  conversion  from  his 
own  lips,  they  might  have  remarked  that  to  one  of  his  tem- 
perament only  could  such  an  event  have  happened,  and  would 
have  noted  many  superficial  resemblances  which  showed  him 
to  be  the  same  man,  while  the  great  inward  change  which 
had  overflowed  upon  the  world  was  hid  from  their  eyes. 

The  gifts  of  God  to  man  have  ever  some  reference  to 
natural  disposition.  He  who  becomes  the  servant  of  God 
does  not  thereby  cease  to  be  himself.  Often  the  transition  is 
greater  in  appearance  than  in  reality,  from  its  very  sudden- 
ness.    There  is  a  kind  of  rebellion  against  self  and  nature 


S44  CHARACTER    OF   ST.   PAUL. 

and  God,  which,  tlirough  the  mercy  of  God  to  the  soul,  seems 
ahnost  necessarily  to  lead  to  reaction.  Persons  have  been 
worse  than  their  fellow-men  in  outward  appearance,  and  yet 
there  was  within  them  the  spirit  of  a  child  waiting  to  retura 
home  to  their  father's  house.  A  change  passes  upon  them 
which  we  may  figure  to  ourselves,  not  only  as  the  new  man 
taking  the  place  of  the  old,  but  as  the  inner  man  taking  the 
place  of  the  outer.  So  fearfully  and  wonderfully  are  we 
made,  that  the  very  contrast  to  what  we  are  has  often  an 
inexpressible  power  over  us.  It  seems  sometimes  as  if  the 
same  religious  education  had  tended  to  contrary  results ;  in 
one  case  to  a  devout  life,  in  another  to  a  reaction  against  it ; 
sometimes  to  one  form  of  faith,  at  other  times  to  another. 
Many  parents  have  wept  to  see  the  early  religious  training  of 
their  children  draw  them,  by  a  kind  of  repulsion,  to  a  com- 
munion which  is  the  extreme  opposite  of  that  in  which  they 
have  been  brought  up.  Such  facts  as  these  have  but  a 
remote  bearing  on  the  character  of  St.  Paul ;  but  they  serve 
to  make  us  think,  that  all  spiritual  influences,  however  an- 
tagonistic they  may  appear,  have  more  in  common  with  each 
other  than  they  have  with  the  temper  of  the  world  ;  and  that 
it  is  easier  to  pass  from  one  form  of  faith  to  another,  than 
from  leading  tlie  life  of  all  men  to  either.  There  is  more  in 
common  between  those  who  anathematize  each  other,  than 
between  either  and  the  spirit  of  toleration  whicli  characterizes 
the  ordinary  dealings  of  man  and  man,  or  much  more  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  for  whom  they  are  alike  contending. 

Perhaps  we  shall  not  be  far  wrong  in  concluding,  that 
those  who  have  undergone  great  religious  chiuiges,  have  been 
of  a  fervid,  imaginative  cast  of  mind ;  looking  for  more  in 
this  world  than  it  was  cfipable  of  yielding ;  easily  touched  by 
tlie  remembrance  of  the  past,  or  inspired  by  some  ideal  of  the 
future.  When  with  this  has  been  combined  a  zeal  for  the 
good  of  their  fellow-men,  they  have  become  the  heralds  and 
champions  of  the  religious  movements  of  the  world.  The 
change  has  begun  within,  but  has  overflowed  without  them. 
"  When  thou  art  converted,  strengthen  thy  bi'elhix'n,**  is  the 


CHARACTER    01     ST.    PAUL.  345 

order  of  nature  and  of  grace.  In  secret  tliey  brood  over 
their  own  state ;  weary  and  profitless  their  soul  fainteth  with- 
in them.  The  religion  they  profess  is  a  religion  not  of  hfe  to 
them,  but  of  death ;  they  lose  their  interest  in  the  world,  and 
are  cut  off  from  the  communion  of  their  fellow-men.  While 
they  are  musing,  the  fire  kindles,  and  at  the  last  "  they  speak 
with  their  tongue."  Then  pours  forth  irrepressibly  the  pent- 
up  stream  "  unto  all  and  upon  all "  their  fellow-men ;  the 
intense  flame  of  inward  enthusiasm  warms  and  lights  up  the 
world.  First,  they  are  the  evidence  to  others ;  then,  again, 
others  are  the  evidence  to  them.  All  religious  leaders  cannot 
be  reduced  to  a  single  type  of  character ;  yet  in  all,  perhaps, 
two  characteristics  may  be  observed ;  the  first,  great  self- 
refiection ;  the  second,  intense  sympathy  with  other  men. 
They  are  not  the  creatures  of  habit  or  of  circumstance,  lead- 
ing a  blind  life,  unconscious  of  what  they  are  ;  their  whole 
effort  is  to  realize  their  inward  nature,  and  to  make  it  palpa- 
ble and  visible  to  their  fellows.  Unhke  other  men  who  are 
confined  to  the  circle  of  themselves  or  of  their  family,  their 
affections  are  never  straitened ;  they  embrace  with  their  love 
all  men  who  are  like-minded  with  them ;  almost  all  men  too, 
who  are  unlike  them,  in  the  hope  that  they  may  become 
like. 

Such  men  have  generally  appeared  at  favorable  conjunc- 
tures of  circumstances,  when  the  old  was  about  to  vanish 
away,  and  the  new  to  appear.  The  world  has  yearned 
towards  them,  and  they  towards  the  world.  They  have 
uttered  what  all  men  were  feeling  ;  they  have  interpreted  the 
age  to  itself.  But  for  the  concurrence  of  circumstances,  they 
might  have  been  stranded  on  the  solitary  shore,  they  might 
have  died  without  a  follower  or  convert.  But  when  the 
world  has  needed  them  and  God  has  intended  them  for  the 
world,  they  are  endued  with  power  from  on  high ;  they  use 
all  other  men  as  their  instruments,  uniting  them  to  them- 
selves. 

Often  such  men  have  been  brought  up  in  the  faith  which 
they  afterwards  oppose,  and  a  part  of  their  power  has  con- 


846  CHARACTER   OF    ST.    PAUL. 

sisted  in  their  acquaintance  with  the  enemy.  They  see  other 
men,  like  themselves  formerly,  wandering  out  of  the  way  in 
the  idol's  temple,  amid  a  burdensome  ceremonial,  with  prayers 
and  sacrifices  unable  to  free  the  soul.  They  lead  them  by 
the  way  themselves  came  to  the  home  of  Christ  Sometimes 
they  represent  the  new  as  the  truth  of  the  old ;  at  other  times 
as  contrasted  with  it,  as  life  and  death,  as  good  and  evil,  as 
Christ  pnd  anti-Christ  They  relax  the  force  of  habit,  they 
melt  the  pride  and  fanaticism  of  the  soul.  They  suggest  to 
others  their  own  doubts,  they  inspire  them  with  their  own 
hopes,  they  supply  their  own  motives,  they  draw  men  to  them 
with  cords  of  sympathy  and  bonds  of  love ;  they  themselves 
seem  a  sufficient  stay  to  support  the  world.  Such  was  Lu- 
ther at  the  Reformation ;  such,  in  a  far  higher  sense,  was  the 
Apostle  St.  Paul. 

There  have  been  heroes  in  the  world,  and  there  have  been 
prophets  in  the  world.  The  first  may  be  divided  into  two 
classes ;  either  they  have  been  men  of  strong  will  and  character, 
or  of  great  power  and  range  of  intellect ;  in  a  few  instances, 
combining  both.  They  have  been  the  natural  leadei*s  of  man- 
kind, compelling  others  by  their  acknowledged  superiority  as 
rulers  and  generals ;  or  in  the  paths  of  science  and  philoso- 
phy, drawing  the  world  after  them  by  a  yet  more  inevitable 
necessity.  The  prophet  belongs  to  another  oi-der  of  beings : 
he  does  not  master  his  tlioughts  ;  they  carry  him  away.  He 
does  not  see  clearly  into  the  laws  of  this  world  or  the  affairs 
of  this  world,  but  has  a  light  beyond,  which  i-eveals  them 
partially  in  their  relation  to  another.  Often  he  seems  to  be 
at  once  both  the  weakest  and  the  strongest  of  men  ;  the  first 
to  yield  to  his  own  impulses,  the  mightiest  to  arouse  them  in 
others.  Calmness,  or  reason,  or  philosophy  are  not  the  words 
which  describe  the  appeals  which  he  makes  to  the  hearts  of 
men.  He  sways  them  to  and  fro  rather  than  governs  or  con- 
trols them.  He  is  a  ))oet,  and  more  than  a  poet,  the  inspirad 
teacher  of  mankind ;  but  the  intellectual  gifU  which  he  pos- 
sesses are  independent  of  knowledge,  or  learning,  or  capacity ; 
what  they  arc  much  more  akin  to  is  the  fire  and  subtlety  of 


CHARACTER   OF   ST.   PAUL.  347 

genius.  He  too,  for  a  time,  has  ruled  kingdoms  and  even  led 
armies  ;  "  an  Apostle,  not  of  man,  nor  by  men  " ;  acting,  not 
by  authority  or  commission  of  any  prince,  but  by  an  imme- 
diate inspiration  from  on  high  communicating  itself  to  the 
liearts  of  men. 

Saul  of  Tarsus  is  called  an  Apostle  rather  than  a  prophet, 
because  Hebrew  prophecy  belongs  to  an  age  of  the  world 
before  Christianity.  Now  that  in  the  Gospel  that  which  is 
perfect  is  come,  that  which  is  in  part  is  done  away.  Yet,  in 
a  secondary  sense,  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  is  also  "  among  the 
prophets."  He,  too,  has  "  visions  and  revelations  of  the 
Lord,"  though  he  has  not  written  them  down  "  for  our  in- 
struction," in  which  he  would  fain  glory  because  they  are  not 
his  own.  Even  to  the  outward  eye  he  has  the  signs  of  a 
prophet.  There  is  in  him  the  same  emotion,  the  same  sym- 
pathy, the  same  "strength  made  perfect  in  weakness,"  the 
same  absence  of  human  knowledge,  the  same  subtilty  in  the 
use  of  language,  the  same  singleness  in  the  delivery  of  his 
message.  He  speaks  more  as  a  man,  and  less  immediately 
under  the  impulse  of  the  Spirit  of  God ;  more  to  individuals, 
and  less  to  the  nation  at  large ;  he  is  less  of  a  poet,  and  more 
of  a  teacher  or  preacher.  But  tl^ese  differences  do  not  inter- 
fere with  the  general  resemblance.  Like  Isaiah,  he  bids  us 
look  to  "  the  man  of  sorrows  "  ;  like  Ezekiel,  he  arouses  men 
to  a  truer  sense  of  tht  ways  of  God  in  his  dealings  with  them ; 
like  Jeremiah,  he  mourns  over  his  countrymen  ;  like  all  the 
prophets  who  have  ever  been,  he  is  lifted  above  this  world, 
and  is  "  in  the  Spirit  at  the  day  of  the  Lord."     (Rev.  i.  10.) 

Reflections  of  this  kind  are  suggested  by  the  absence  of 
materials  such  as  throw  any  light  on  the  early  life  of  St. 
Paul.  All  that  we  know  of  him  before  his  conversion  is 
summed  up  in  two  facts,  "  that  the  witnesses  laid  do\^Ti  their 
clothes  with  a  young  man  whose  name  was  Saul,"  and  that  he 
was  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  one  of  the  few  Rab- 
binical teachers  of  Greek  learning  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem. 
We  cannot  venture  to  assign  him  either  to  the  "  choleric  "  or 
the  "  melancholic  "  temperament.     [Tholuck.J     We  are  un- 


348  CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL. 

able  to  determine  what  were  his  natural  gifts  or  capacities ;  or 
how  far,  as  we  often  observe  to  be  the  ease,  the  gifts  which  he 
had  were  called  out  by  the  mission  on  which  he  was  sent,  or 
tiie  theatre  on  which  he  felt  himself  placed  "  a  spectacle  to 
the  world,  to  angels,  and  to  men."  Far  more  interesting  is  it 
to  trace  the  simple  feelings  with  which  he  himself  regarded 
his  former  life.  "  Last  of  all  he  was  seen  of  me  also,  who 
am  the  least  of  the  Apostles,  that  am  not  worthy  to  be  called 
an  Apostle,  because  I  persecuted  the  Church  of  God."  Yet 
there  was  a  sense  also  that  he  was  excusable,  and  that  this 
was  the  reason  why  the  mercy  of  God  exterided  itself  to  him. 
"  Yet  I  obtained  mercy,  because  I  did  it  ignorantly  in  unbe- 
lief." And  in  one  passage  he  dwells  on  the  fact,  not  only 
that  he  had  been  an  Israelite,  but  more,  that  after  the  strictest 
sect  of  the  Jews'  religion  he  lived  a  Pharisee,  as  though  that 
were  an  evidence  to  himself,  and  should  be  so  to  others,  that 
no  human  power  could  have  changed  him  ;  that  he  was  no 
half  Jew,  who  had  never  properly  known  what  the  law  was, 
but  one  who  had  both  known  and  strictly  practised  it. 

We  are  apt  to  judge  extraordinary  men  by  our  own  stand- 
ard ;  that  is  to  say,  we  often  suppose  them  to  possess,  in  an 
extraordinary  degree,  thost^  qualities  which  we  are  conscious 
of  in  ourselves  or  others.  This  is  the  easiest  way  of  con- 
ceiving their  characters,  but  not  the  truest.  They  diff'er  in 
kind  rather  than  in  degree.  Even  to  understand  them  truly 
seems  to  require  a  power  analogous  to  their  own.  Their 
natures  are  more  subtile,  and  yet  more  simple,  than  we  readily 
imagine.  No  one  can  read  the  ninth  chapter  of  the  First,  or 
the  eleventh  and  twelfth  chapters  of  the  Second  Epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  without  feeling  how  different  the  Apostle  St. 
Paul  must  have  been  from  good  men  anw  ng  ourselves.  Wo 
marvel  bow  such  various  traits  of  character  come  together 
in  the  same  individual.  lie  who  was  ^*  full  of  visions  and 
revelations  of  the  Lord,'*  who  spake  with  tongues  more  than 
they  all,  was  not  **  nnul,  but  uttered  the  words  of  truth  and 
soberness."  lie  who  was  the  most  enthusiastic  of  all  men, 
was  also  the  most  |Tudent ;  the  Apostle  of  freedom,  and  yot 


CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL.  349 

the  most  moderate.  He  who  was  the  strongest  and  most 
enlightened  of  all  men,  was  also  (would  he  have  himself  re- 
frained from  saying  ?)  at  times  the  weakest ;  on  whom  there 
came  the  care  of  all  the  churches,  yet  seeming  also  to  lose 
the  power  of  acting  in  the  absence  of  human  sympathy. 

Qualities  so  like  and  unlike  are  hard  to  reconcile ;  perhaps 
they  have  never  been  united  in  the  same  degree  in  any  other 
human  being.  The  contradiction  in  part  arises,  not  only  from 
the  Apostle  being  an  extraordinary  man,  but  from  his  being  a 
man  like  ourselves  in  an  extraordinary  state.  Creation  was 
not  to  him  that  fixed  order  of  things  which  it  is  to  us ;  rather 
it  was  an  atmosphere  of  evil  just  broken  by  the  light  beyond. 
To  us  the  repose  of  the  scene  around  contrasts  with  the  tur- 
moil of  man's  own  spirit ;  to  the  Apostle  peace  was  to  be 
sought  only  from  within,  half  hidden  even  from  the  inner  man. 
There  was  a  veil  upon  the  heart  itself  which  had  to  be  re- 
moved. He  himself  seemed  to  fall  asunder  at  times  into  two 
parts,  the  flesh  and  the  spirit ;  and  the  world  to  be  divided 
into  two  hemispheres,  the  one  of  the  rulers  of  darkness,  the 
other  bright  with  that  inward  presence  which  should  one  day 
be  revealed.  In  this  twilight  he  lived.  What  to  us  is  far  off 
both  in  time  and  place,  if  such  an  expression  may  be  allowed, 
to  him  was  near  and  present,  separated  by  a  thin  film  from 
the  world  we  see,  ever  ready  to  break  forth  and  gather  into 
itself  the  frame  of  nature.  That  sense  of  the  invisible  which 
to  most  men  it  is  so  difficult  to  impart,  was  like  a  second  na- 
ture to  St.  Paul.  He  walked  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight ; 
what  was  strange  to  him  was  the  life  he  now  led  ;  which  in 
his  own  often  repeated  language  was  death  rather  than  life, 
the  place  of  shadows,  and  not  of  realities.  The  Greek  philos- 
ophers spoke  of  a  world  of  phenomena,  of  true  being,  of 
knowledge,  and  opinion ;  and  we  know  that  what  they  meant 
by  these  distinctions  is  something  different  from  the  tenets  of 
any  philosophical  school  of  the  present  day.  But  not  less 
different  is  what  St.  Paul  meant  by  the  life  hidden  with  Christ 
in  God,  the  communion  of  the  spirit,  the  possession  of  the 
mind  of  Chi'ist ;  only  that  this  was  not  a  mere  difference  of 
30 


350  CHARACTER    OF    ST.   PAUL. 

Speculation,  but  of  practice  also.  Could  any  one  say  now,  — - 
«  the  life,"  not  that  I  live,  but  that  "  Christ  liveth  in  me  "  ? 
Such  language  with  St.  Paul  is  no  mere  phraseology,  such  as 
is  repeated  from  habit  in  prayers,  but  the  original  conscious- 
ness of  the  Apostle  respecting  his  own  state.  Self  is  banished 
from  him,  and  has  no  more  place  in  him,  as  he  goes  on  hid 
way  to  fulfil  the  work  of  Christ.  No  figure  is  too  strong  to 
express  his  humiliation  in  himself,  or  his  exaltation  in  Christ 

Could  we  expect  this  to  be  otherwise  when  we  look  back  at 
the  manner  of  his  conversion  ?  Could  he  have  looked  upon 
the  world  with  the  same  eyes  that  we  do,  or  heard  its  many 
voices  with  the  same  ears,  who  had  been  caught  up  into  the 
seventh  heaven,  whether  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body,  he 
could  not  tell  ?  Must  not  his  whole  life  have  seemed  to  him 
like  a  gradual  revelation,  an  inspiration,  an  ecstasy?  Once 
he  had  looked  upon  the  face  of  Christ,  and  heard  Him  speak 
from  heaven.  All  that  followed  in  the  Apostle*s  history  was 
continuous  with  that  event,  a  stream  of  light  flowing  from  it, 
"  planting  eyes  "  in  his  soul,  transfiguring  him  "  from  glory  to 
glory,"  clothing  him  with  the  elect  "  in  the  exceeding  glory." 

Yet  this  glory  was  not  that  of  the  princes  of  this  world, 
"  who  come  to  naught " :  it  is  another  image  which  he  gives 
us  of  himself;  —  not  the  figure  on  Mars'  hill,  in  the  cartoons 
of  Raphael,  nor  the  onitor  with  noble  mien  and  ehMjuent  ges- 
ture before  Festus  and  Agrippa ;  but  the  image  of  one  lowly 
and  cast  down,  whose  bodily  presence  was  weak,  and  speech 
contemptible  ;  of  one  who  must  have  appeared  to  the  rest  of 
mankind  like  a  visionary,  pierced  by  the  thorn  in  the  flesh, 
waiting  for  the  redemption  of  the  body.  The  saints  of  the 
Middle  Ages  are  in  many  respects  unlike  St.  Paul,  and  yet 
many  of  them  bear  a  far  closer  resembhmce  to  him  than  is  to 
be  foinid  in  Luther  and  the  Reformers.  The  points  of  resera- 
l>lance  which  we  seem  to  see  in  them  are  the  same  withdrawal 
fnim  tlie  things  of  earth,  the  same  ecstasy,  the  same  conscious- 
ness of  the  pei*son  of  Christ.  Who  would  describe  Luther  by 
the  words  "  crucified  with  Christ "  ?  It  is  in  another  manner 
that  the  Reformer  was  called  upon  to  war,  —  with  weuponfi 


CHARACTER    OF    ST.   PAUL.  351 

earthly  as  well  as  spiritual,  with  a  strong  rigl  t  hand  and  a 
mighty  arm. 

There  have  been  those  who,  although  deformed  by  nature, 
have  worn  the  expression  of  a  calm  and  heavenly  beauty ;  in 
whom  the  flashing  eye  has  attested  the  presence  of  thought  in 
the  poor,  withered,  and  palsied  frame.  There  have  been 
others  again,  who  have  passed  the  greater  part  of  their  lives 
in  intense  bodily  suffering,  who  have,  nevertheless,  directed 
states  or  led  armies,  the  keenness  of  whose  intellect  has  not 
been  dulled,  nor  their  natural  force  of  mind  abated.  There 
have  been  those  also,  on  whose  faces  men  have  gazed  "  as 
upon  the  face  of  an  angel,"  while  they  pierced  or  stoned  them. 
Of  such  an  one,  perhaps,  the  Apostle  himself  might  have  glo- 
ried ;  not  of  those  whom  men  term  great  or  noble.  He  who 
felt  the  whole  creation  groaning  and  travailing  together  until 
now,  was  not  like  the  Greek  drinking  in  the  life  of  nature  at 
every  pore.  He  who  through  Christ  was  crucified  to  the 
world,  and  the  world  to  him,  was  not  in  harmony  with  nature, 
nor  nature  with  him.  The  manly  form,  the  erect  step,  the 
fulness  of  life  and  beauty,  could  not  have  gone  along  with 
such  a  consciousness  as  this  ;  any  more  than  the  taste  for  lit- 
erature and  art  could  have  consisted  with  the  thought,  "  not 
many  wise,  not  many  learned,  not  many  mighty."  Instead  of 
these,  we  have  the  visage  marred  more  than  the  sons  of  men, 
the  cross  of  Christ  to  the  Greeks  foolishness,  the  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  the  marks  in  his  body  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

Often  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  has  been  described  as  a  person 
the  furthest  removed  from  enthusiasm  ;  incapable  of  spiritual 
illusion;  by  his  natural  temperament  averse  to  credulity  or 
superstition.  By  such  considerations  as  these  a  celebrated 
author  confesses  himself  to  have  been  converted  to  the  belief 
in  Christianity.  And  yet,  if  it  is  intended  to  reduce  St.  Paul 
to  the  type  of  what  is  termed  "  good  sense  "  in  the  present 
day,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  view  which  thus  describes 
him  is  but  partially  true.  Far  nearer  the  truth  is  that  other 
quaint  notion  of  a  modern  writer,  "  that  St.  Paul  was  the 
fmest  gentleman  that  ever  lived";  for  no  man  had  nobler 


852  CHARACTER   OF   ST.   PAUL. 

forms  of  courtesy,  or  a  deeper  regard  for  the  feelings  of  others. 
But  "  good  sense "  is  a  term  not  well  adapted  to  express 
either  the  individual,  or  the  age  and  country  in  which  he 
lived.  He  who  wrought  miracles,  who  had  handkerchiefs 
carried  to  him  from  the  sick,  who  spake  with  tongues  more 
than  they  all,  who  lived  amid  visions  and  revelations  of  the 
Lord,  who  did  not  appeal  to  the  Gospel  as  a  thing  long  set- 
tled, but,  himself,  saw  the  process  of  revelation  actually  going 
on  before  his  eyes,  and  communicated  it  to  his  fellow-men, 
could  never  have  been  such  an  one  as  ourselves.  Nor  can 
we  pretend  to  estimate  whether,  in  the  modeni  sense  of  the 
term,  he  was  capable  of  weighing  evidence  ;  or  how  fiu*  he 
would  have  attempted  to  sever  between  the  workings  of  his 
own  mind  and  the  Spirit  which  wju  imparted  to  him. 

Wliat  has  given  rise  to  this  conception  of  the  Apostle's 
character  has  been  the  circumstance,  that  with  what  the  world 
terms  mysticism  and  enthusiasm  are  united  a  singular  pru- 
dence and  moderation,  and  a  peifect  humanity,  searching  the 
feelings  and  knowing  the  hearts  of  all  men.  "  I  became  iUl 
things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  win  some  " ;  not  only,  we  may 
believe,  as  a  sort  of  accommodation,  but  as  the  expression 
of  the  natural  compassion  and  love  which  he  felt  for  them. 
There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  Apostle  took  a!iy  in- 
terest in  the  daily  life  of  men,  in  the  great  events  which  were 
befalling  the  Roman  Empire,  or  in  the  temporal  fortunes  of 
the  Jewish  people.  But  when  they  came  before  him  as  sin- 
ners, lying  in  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  God's  wmth,  igno- 
rant of  the  mystery  that  was  being  revealed  before  their  eyes, 
then  his  love  was  quickened  for  them,  then  they  seemed  to 
him  as  his  kindred  and  brethren  ;  there  was  no  sacrifice  too 
great  for  him  to  make  ;  he  was  willing  to  die  with  Christ, 
yea,  even  to  be  accursed  from  Him,  that  he  miglit "  save  some 
of  them." 

Mysticism,  or  enthusiasm,  or  intense  benevolence  and  phi- 
lanthropy, seem  to  us,  as  they  commonly  arc,  at  variance  with 
worldly  prudence  and  moderation.  But  in  the  Apostle  these 
different  and  contrasted  qualities  are  mingled  and  harmonized* 


CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL.  353 

The  mother  watching  over  the  hfe  X)f  her  child  has  all  her 
faiuilties  aroused  and  stimulated ;  she  knows  almost  bj  in- 
stinct how  to  say  or  do  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time  ;  she 
regards  his  faults  with  mingled  love  and  sorrow.  So,  in  the 
Apostle,  we  seem  to  trace  a  sort  of  refinement  or  nicety  of 
feeling,  w^hen  he  is  deahng  with  the  souls  of  men.  All  his 
knowledge  of  mankind  shows  itself  for  their  sakes ;  and  yet 
not  that  knowledge  of  mankind  which  comes  from  without,  re- 
vealing itself  by  experience  of  men  and  manners,  by  taking  a 
part  in  events,  by  the  insensible  course  of  years  making  us 
learn  from  what  we  have  seen  and  suffered.  There  is  another 
experience  that  comes  from  within,  which  begins  with  the 
knowledge  of  self,  with  the  consciousness  of  our  own  weak- 
ness and  infirmities  ;  which  is  continued  in  love  to  others,  and 
in  works  of  good  to  them  ;  which  grows  by  singleness  and 
simplicity  of  heart.  Love  becomes  the  interpreter  of  how 
men  think,  and  feel,  and  act,  and  supplies  the  place  of,  or 
passes  intc,  a  worldly  prudence  wiser  than  the  prudence  of  this 
world.     Such  is  the  worldly  prudence  of  St.  Paul. 

Once  more :  there  is  in  the  Apostle,  not  only  prudence  and 
knowledge  of  the  world,  but  a  kind  of  subtilty  of  moderation, 
which  considers  every  conceivable  case,  and  balances  one 
with  another ;  in  the  last  resort  giving  no  rule,  but  allowing 
all  to  be  superseded  by  a  more  general  principle.  An  in- 
stance of  this  subtile  moderation  is  his  determination,  or  rather 
omission,  to  determine  the  question  of  meats  and  drinks,  which 
he  first  regards  as  indifferent,  secondly,  as  depending  on  men's 
own  conscience,  and  this  again  as  limited  by  the  consciences 
of  others,  and  lastly  resolves  all  these  finer  precepts  into  the 
general  principle,  "  Whatever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of 
God."  The  same  quahfication  of  one  principle  by  another 
recurs  again  in  his  rules  respecting  marriage.  First,  "  do  not 
marry  unbelievers,"  and  "  let  not  the  wife  depart  from  hei 
husband."  But  if  you  are  married,  and  the  unbeliever  is  wil- 
ling to  remain,  then  the  spirit  of  the  second  precept  must 
prevail  over  the  first.  Only  in  an  extreme  case,  where  both 
parties  are  wilhng  to  dissolve  the  tie,  the  first  principle  in  turn 
30* 


35t  CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL. 

may  again  supersede  the  second.  It  may  be  said  in  the  one 
case,  "  Your  children  are  holy  " ;  in  the  other,  "  What  knowest 
thou,  0  wife,  if  thou  shalt  save  thy  husband  ?**  In  a  similar 
spirit  he  withdraws  his  censure  on  the  incestuous  person,  lesi 
such  an  one,  criminal  as  he  was,  should  be  swallowed  up  with 
oveiTnuch  sorrow.  There  is  a  religious  aspectof  either  course 
of  conduct,  and  either  may  be  right  under  given  circum- 
stances. So  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  admit  of  being  re- 
garded almost  as  the  kingdom  of  God,  in  reference  to  our 
duties  towards  their  rulers  ;  and  yet  touching  the  going  to  law 
before  unbelievers,  we  are  to  think  rather  of  that  other  king- 
dom in  which  we  shall  judge  angels. 

The  Gospel,  it  has  been  often  remarked,  lays  down  princi- 
ples rather  than  rules.  The  passages  in  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul  wliich  seem  to  be  exceptions  to  this  statement,  are  ex- 
ceptions in  appearance  rather  than  reality.  They  are  relative 
to  the  circumstances  of  those  whom  he  is  addressing.  He 
who  became  "  all  things  to  all  men,"  would  have  been  the  last 
tb  insist  on  temporary  regulations  for  his  converts  being  made 
the  rule  of  Christian  life  in  all  ages.  His  manner  of  church 
government  was  the  very  reverse  of  an  immutable  and  un- 
bending law.  In  all  his  instructions  to  the  churches,  the 
Apostle  is  ever  witli  them,  and  seems  to  follow  in  his  mind*s 
eye  their  working  and  eifect ;  whither  his  Epistles  go,  ho 
goes  in  thought ;  absent,  in  his  own  language,  in  the  body, 
but  present  in  spirit.  What  he  says  to  the  churches,  he 
seems  to  make  them  say ;  what  he  directs  them  to  do,  they 
are  to  do  in  that  c*ommon  spirit  in  which  they  are  united  with 
him;  if  they  live,  he  lives;  time  and  distance  never  snap 
the  cord  of  sympathy.  His  government  of  them  is  a  sort  of 
communion  with  them ;  a  receiving  of  their  feelings  and  a 
pouring  forth  of  his  own,  haixlly  ever  bare  command ;  a  spirit 
which  he  seeks  to  infuse  into  them,  not  a  law  by  which  he 
rules  them. 

Great  men  are  sometimes  said  to  possess  the  power  of  com- 
mand, but  not  the  power  of  entering  into  the  feelings  of  others. 
They  have  no  fear  of  their  fellows,  but  neither  are  they  al- 


CHARACTER    OF    ST.    PAUL.  355 

ways  capable  of  immediately  impressing  them,  or  of  perceiv- 
ing the  impression  wliich  their  words  or  actions  make  upon 
them.  Often  they  live  in  a  kind  of  solitude,  on  which  other 
men  do  not  venture  to  intrude  ;  putting  forth  their  strength  on 
particular  occasions,  careless  or  abstracted  about  the  daily 
concerns  of  life.  Such  was  not  the  greatness  of  the  Apostle 
St.  Paul ;  not  only  in  the  sense  in  which  he  says  that  "  he 
could  do  all  things  through  Christ,"  but  in  a  more  earthly  and 
human  one,  was  it  true  that  his  strength  was  his  weakness,  and 
his  Aveakness  his  strength.  His  dependence  on  others  was  in 
part  also  the  source  of  his  influence  over  them.  His  natural 
character  was  the  type  of  that  communion  of  the  Spirit  which 
he  preached  ;  the  meanness  of  appearance  which  he  attributes 
to  himself,  the  image  of  that  contrast  which  the  Gospel  pre- 
sents to  human  greatness.  Glorying  and  humiliation,  life  and 
death,  a  vision  of  angels  strengthening  him,  the  '/  thorn  in  the 
flesh  "  rebuking  him,  the  greatest  tenderness  not  without  stern- 
ness, sorrows  above  measure,  consolations  above  measure,  are 
some  of  the  contradictions  Avhich  were  reconciled  in  the  same 
man.  The  centre  in  which  things  so  strange  met  and  moved 
was  the  cross  of  Christ,  "  whose  marks  in  his  body  he  bore  " ; 
what  was  "  behind  of  whose  afflictions  "  he  rty'oiced  to  fill  up. 
Let  us  look  once  more,  a  little  closer,  at  that  "  visage  marred  " 
in  his  Master's  service.  A  poor  decrepit  being,  afflicted  per- 
haps with  palsy,  certainly  with  some  bodily  defect,  —  led  out 
of  prison  between  Roman  soldiers,  probably  at  times  faltering 
in  his  speech,  the  creature,  as  he  seemed  to  spectators,  of  ner- 
vous sensibility,  —  yearning,  almost  with  a  sort  of  fondness,  to 
save  the  souls  of  those  whom  he  saw  around  him,  —  spoke  a 
few  eloquent  words  in  the  cause  of  Christian  truth,  at  which 
kings  were  awed,  telling  the  tale  of  his  own  conversion  with 
such  simple  pathos,  that  after  ages  have  hardly  heard  the 
like. 

Such  is  the  image,  not  which  Christian  art  hao  delighted  to 
consecrate,  but  which  the  Apostle  has  left  in  his  own  writingfv 
of  himself;  an  image  of  true  wisdom.,  and  nobleness,  and  af- 
fection, but  of  a  wisdom  unlike  the  wisdom  of  this  world ;  ol 


856  CHARACTER   OF   ST.    PAUL. 

a  nobleness  which  must  not  be  transformed  into  that  of  tlic 
heroes  of  the  world ;  an  affection  which  see^ijeJ  to  be  as 
sti'ong  and  as  individual  towards  all  mankind  t.  'yther  men 
arc  capable  of  feeling  towards  a  single  person. 


ST.  PAUL  AND  THE  TWELVE 


By  benjamin  JOWETT. 


The  narrative  of  the  second  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians  suggests  an  inquiry,  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of 
all  inquiries  into  the  history  of  the  early  Church :  "  In  what 
relation  did  St.  Paul  stand  to  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem  ? " 
To  which  inquiry  three  answers  may  be  given:  (1.)  the 
answer  which  identifies  the  preaching  of  St.  Paul  and  the 
Twelve ;  or,  (2.)  which  opposes  them ;  or,  (3.)  which,  without 
absolutely  either  identifying  or  opposing  them,  allows  for  im- 
portant differences  arising  from  variety  of  external  circum- 
stances and  of  individual  character.  The  first  answer  is  that 
which  would  be  gathered  from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
which  presents  only  the  picture  of  an  unbroken  unity ;  a 
Tievv  to  which  the  Church  in  after  ages  naturally  inclined, 
and  which  may  be  said  to  be  caricatured  in  the  explanation 
of  Chrysostom  and  Jerome,  that  the  dispute  between  the 
Apostles  at  Antioch  was  only  a  concerted  fiction.  Secondly, 
the  answer  which  would  be  supplied  by  the  Clementine  homi- 
lies, in  which  St.  Paul  sustains  the  character  of  Simon  Magus, 
and  St.  Peter  is  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles ;  such  an  answer 
as  would  probably  have  been  given  also  in  the  writings  (had 
they  been  preserved  to  us)  of  Marcion,  by  whom  St.  Paul  in 
turn  was  magnified  to  the  exclusion  of  the  Twelve.  The 
third  answer  is  that  which  we  believe  would  be  drawn  from 
a  careful  examination  of  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  himself,  the 


358  ST.    PAUL   AND    THE   TWELVE. 

only  contemporary  documents :  "  Separation  not  opposition, 
antagonism  of  the  followers  rather  than  of  the  l*»adei*s,  per- 
sonal antipathy  of  the  Judaizers  to  St.  Paul  rather  than  of 
St  Paul  to  the  Twelve." 

The  inquiry  to  which  these  three  answers  have  been  given, 
unavoidably  runs  up  into  the  more  general  question  of  the 
relation  of  the  Gospel  of  the  circumcision  and  the  uncircum- 
cision,  and  of  the  Jew  to  the  Gentile.  If  in  the  second 
century  these  distinctions  yet  survived,  if  animosities  against 
St.  Paul  were  burning  still,  if  a  party  without  the  Church 
ranged  itself  under  his  name,  if  later  controversies  have  any- 
thing in  common  with  that  first  difference  of  circumcision  and 
uncircumcision,  if  in  the  earliest  ecclesiastical  histor}'  we  find 
a  silence  respecting  the  person  and  an  absence  of  the  spirit 
of  St.  Paul,  it  is  impossible  to  separate  these  facts  from  the 
record  of  the  Apostle  himself,  that  on  a  great  occasion  the 
other  Apostles  "  added  nothing  to  him  " ;  and  tiiat  at  Antioch, 
which  was  more  peculiarly  his  own  sphere,  he  withstood  Peter 
to  the  face.  We  recognize  in  the  personal  narrative  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  the  germ  of  wiiat  reappeai*s  after- 
wai-ds  as  the  history  of  the  Church.  And  had  no  record  of 
either  kind  survived,  had  there  been  no  hint  anywhere 
dropped  of  divisions  between  St,  Paul  and  the  Twelve,  no 
memorial  extant  of  Judaizing  heresies,  we  should  feel  that 
some  account  was  still  needed  of  the  manner  in  which  circum- 
cision became  uncircumcision,  and  the  Jew  was  lost  in  the 
Gentile.  Probably  we  might  conjecture  not  in  all  places  with 
equal  readiness,  nor  equally  after  and  before  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem  or  the  revolt  under  Adrian,  nor  without  impart- 
ing many  elements  of  the  Law  to  the  Gospel,  nor,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  general  laws  of  human  nature,  without  some 
violence  of  party  and  opinion. 

Events  of  the  greatest  importance  in  the  history  of  man- 
kind are  not  always  seen  to  be  important,  until  the  time  for 
preserving  them  is  past.  They  have  vanished  into  outline, 
and  the  details  are  filled  up  by  the  imagination  or  by  the 
feelings  of  a  later  generation.    This  is  especially  the  OMa 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  859 

with  such  events  as  stand  in  no  relation  to  the  public  life  of 
the  time.  Events  of  this  kind,  the  most  fruitful  in  results, 
may  disappear  themselves  as  though  they  had  never  been ; 
they  may  also  be  magnified  by  present  interests  into  false  and 
exaggerated  proportions.  "Who  can  tell  what  went  on  in  a 
"  large  upper  room  "  about  the  year  40  ?  which  may,  never- 
theless, have  had  vital  consequences  for  the  history  of  the 
world  and  the  Church.  Allusions  in  contemporary  writings 
will  be  often  insufficient  to  retain  the  true  meaning  of  institu- 
tions or  events,  or  to  dispel  the  errors  that  may  distort  or 
cover  them.  And  the  events  which  of  all  others  are  least 
likely  to  preserve  their  real  aspect,  —  most  subject  to  be  for- 
gotten on  the  one  hand,  or  to  be  exaggerated  on  the  other,  — 
the  most  liable  to  be  perverted,  the  least  possible  to  read 
aright  even  in  contemporary  writings,  —  are  the  differences  of 
the  fvrst  teachers  of  a  religion,  when  they  leave  no  permanent 
impress  on  its  after  history. 

These  are  the  reasons  why,  on  such  a  subject  as  the  one 
we  are  considering,  so  much  is  left  for  speculation  and  for 
conjecture ;  why  the  result  of  so  many  books  is  so  small ; 
why  there  is  so  much  criticism,  and  so  little  history.  Not 
only  are  the  materials  slender,  but  the  light  by  which  they 
are  seen  is  feeble ;  and  hence  the  new  combinations  and  con- 
structions of  them  are  necessarily  uncertain.  They  cannot 
be  left  to  lie  flat  upon  the  page  of  Scripture ;  least  of  all  can 
they  be  put  together  on  the  pattern  of  ecclesiastical  tradition. 
Church  history,  like  other  history,  may  be  made  by  the  work- 
ings of  the  human  mind  to  acquire  a  deceitful  unity  ;  it  may 
gather  to  itself  form  and  feature ;  it  may  convey  a  harmo- 
nious impression,  which,  from  its  mere  internal  consistency,  it 
is  difficult  to  resist.  The  philosophy  of  history  readily  weaves 
the  tangle,  developing  the  growth  of  ideas  and  connecting 
together  causes  and  effects ;  but  the  unity  which  it  creates  is 
only  artificial.  Some  other  combination  may  be  equally- 
possible.  Tradition,  on  the  other  hand,  has  a  natural  unity ; 
but  it  is  the  unity  of  idea,  which  a  later  age  gives  to  the  past. 
It  tells  not  what  a  former  generation  was,  but  what  an  after 


860  ST.    PAUL    AND   THE   TWELVE. 

one  thought  it  should  have  been.  Many  things  came  to  light 
in  the  second  century,  which  were  unknown  in  the  first.  Still 
more  in  the  third,  that  were  unknown  in  the  second.  We 
turn  from  "  this  idol  of  the  temple  **  to  our  earliest  materials, 
the  least  hint  in  which,  slender  as  they  are,  will  be  often  of 
more  value  than  all  later  traditions  put  together. 

Many  causes  combine  to  produce  a  singular  illusion  in 
reference  to  the  Church  of  the  Apostolic  age.  There  is  the 
universal  temptation  to  look  back  to  a  time  when  human 
nature  was  better  than  it  is,  when  virtue  and  brotherly  love 
were  not  an  ideal  only,  but  had  an  actual  habitation  on  the 
earth  among  men.  The  times  of  the  Apostles  are  the  golden 
age  of  the  Church,  in  which,  without  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any 
such  thing,  it  seems  to  come  from  the  hands  of  its  Divine 
Author,  —  the  New  Jerusalem  descending  from  heaven,  ar- 
rayed in  a  portion  of  that  glory  with  which  the  faith  of  the 
Apostles  clothed  it.  Such  is  the  idea  which  we  instinctively 
form  of  the  piimitive  Church,  prior  to  any  examination  of 
the  New  Testament ;  an  idea  which  is  with  difficulty  laid 
aside  in  the  face  of  the  plainest  facts.  The  misconception  is 
further  increased  by  the  circumstance,  that  in  modern  times 
even  more  than  in  ancient,  we  have  made  the  first  century 
the  battle-field  of  our  controversies ;  instead  of  asking  what 
was  right,  or  true,  or  probable,  what  was  the  spirit  or  mind  of 
Christ,  we  have  constantly  repeated  the  question,  "  What  was 
the  belief,  constitution,  practice,  of  the  primitive  Church?**  — 
o  question  which  we  had,  in  reality,  the  smallest  materials  for 
answering,  and  which  we  had,  therefore,  the  greatest  tempta- 
tion to  answer  according  to  our  previous  conception.  The 
vacant  space  was  in  some  way  to  be  filled  up.  Could  any- 
thing be  more  natural  than  that  it  should  be  filled  up  with  the 
features  of  the  third  century  ?  If  we  analyze  closely  what 
is  the  ori;rin  of  many  familiar  conceptions  respecting  the 
Apostolic  Church,  we  shall  find  that  they  consist  of  n  sort  of 
ideal,  clothed  in  some  of  the  externals  of  Tertullian  or  of 
Augustine,  and  conforming,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  use 
and  practice  of  our  own  time. 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  861 

The  slightest  knowledge  of  human  nature  is  sufficient  to 
assure  us,  that  in  the  primitive  Church  there  must  have 
existed  all  the  varieties  of  practice,  belief,  speculation,  doc- 
trine, which  the  different  circumstances  of  the  converts,  and 
the  different  natures  of  men  acting  on  those  circumstances, 
would  be  likely  to  produce.  The  least  examination  of  the 
Epistles  is  sufficient  to  show,  not  only  what  must  have  been, 
but  what  was.  Even  the  Apostles  and  their  immediate  fol- 
lowers did  not  work  together  in  the  spirit  of  an  order ;  but 
like  men  of  strongly  marked  individual  character,  going  by 
different  roads  to  what  did  not  always  prove  to  be  a  common 
end.  Not  to  anticipate  the  great  division  of  which  we  are 
about  to  speak,  Paul,  and  Barnabas,  and  Apollos,  and  even 
Priscilla  and  Aquila,  seem  to  have  their  separate  spheres  of 
labor  and  ways  of  acting ;  and  a  similar  difference,  though 
slightly  marked,  is  observable  in  the  relation  of  St.  Peter  to 
St.  James.  When  the  Apostles  were  withdrawn,  the  differ- 
ences which  had  commenced  during  their  lifetime  were  not 
likely  to  disappear ;  in  all  that  conflict  of  opinions,  philoso- 
phies, religions,  races,  they  must,  for  a  time  at  least,  have 
found  food,  and  gathered  strength. 

Leaving  such  general  speculations,  we  will  now  go  back 
to  the  subject  out  of  which  they  arose,  —  the  difference  of  St. 
Paul  and  the  Twelve,  "  the  little  cloud  no  bigger  than  a 
man's  hand,"  the  sign  of  that  greater  difference  which  spread 
itself  over  the  face  of  the  Church  and  the  world. 

The  narrative  of  this  difference  is  contained  in  the  second 
chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  The  Apostle  begins 
by  asserting  his  Divine  commission  and  independence  of 
human  authority,  with  an  emphasis  which  implies  that  this 
could  not  have  been  acknowledged  by  the  Judaizing  Chris- 
tians. After  a  few  sharp  words  of  remonstrance,  he  touches 
on  such  points  in  his  personal  history  as  tended  to  show  that 
he  had  no  connection  with  the  Twelve.  It  was  not  by  their 
ministry  that  he  was  converted  ;  and  after  his  conversion,  he 
had  seen  them  only  twice  ;  once  for  so  short  a  time  that  he 
was  unknown  by  face  to  the  churches  of  Judaea ;  on  the  latter 
31 


862  ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE. 

of  the  two  occasions,  they  had  "  added  nothing  to  him  "  iii  a 
conference  about  circumcision.  Afterwards,  at  Antioch,  when 
Peter  showed  a  disposition  partially  to  retrace  his  steps,  at 
the  instigation  of  certain  who  came  from  James,  he  withstood 
him  to  the  face,  and  rebuked  his  inconsistency,  even  though 
his  helper,  Barnabas,  and  all  the  other  Jews,  were  against 
him.  The  reason  for  narrating  all  this  is  to  show,  not  how 
nearly  the  Apostle  agreed  with  the  Twelve,  but  how  entirely 
he  maintained  his  ground,  meeting  them  on  terms  of  free- 
dom and  equality.  ^ 

There  are  features  in  this  narrative  which  indicate  a  hostile, 
as  there  are  other  features  which  also  indicate  a  friendly, 
bearing  in  the  two  parties  who  are  here  spoken  of.  Among 
the  first  may  be  classed  the  mention  of  false  brethren,  "  who 
came  in  to  spy  out  our  liberty  in  Christ  Jesus."  AVere  they 
Jews  or  Christians  ?  and  how  came  they  to  be  present  if  the 
Apostles  at  Jerusalem  could  have  prevented  them  ?  The 
number  of  them  seems  to  indicate  that  there  was  no  strong 
line  of  demarcation  between  the  Jews  and  Christians  at  Jeru- 
salem ;  and  from  the  tone  of  the  narrative  we  can  hardly 
avoid  drawing  the  conclusion,  that  the  other  Apostles  scarcely 
resisted  them,  but  loft  the  battle  to  be  fought  by  St,  Paul. 
The  second  point  which  leads  to  the  unfavorable  inference  is 
the  manner  in  which  the  Apostles  of  Jerusalem  are  spoken 
of,  — "  those  who  seemed  to  be  somewhat,  whatsoever  they 
were,  it  maketh  no  matter  to  me  " ;  ol  doKovvrtt  uvai  t»,  v.  6, 
who  are  shown  by  the  form  of  the  sentence  to  be  the  same  as 
ol  fioKovvTft  oTvXot  ciwii,  in  V.  9.  Thirdly,  the  distinction  of 
the  Gospels  of  the  circumcision  and  uncircumcision,  which 
was  not  merely  one  of  places,  but  in  some  degree  of  doctrine 
also.  Fourthly,  the  use  of  the  words  (vit6Kptarts)  **  hypocrisy,** 
and  (icaTfyvwrniyos)  "condemned,*'  in  reference  to  Peter^s 
conduct;  and,  hustly,  in  v.  12,  the  mention  of  certain  who 
came  from  James,  under  whose  influence  the  Apostle  sup- 
posed Peter  to  have  acted ;  which  raises  the  suspicion  of  a 
regular  opposition  to  St.  Paul,  acting  in  concert  with  the 
heads  of  the  Church  at  Jerusalem.    In  the  end,  the  other 


ST.    PAUL    A'ND    THE    TWELVE.  863 

Apostles  were  determined  by  the  fact,  that  a  Church  had 
grown  up  external  to  them,  which  was  its  own  witness. 

Yet  in  this  very  passage  there  are  also  kindlier  features, 
which  restore  us  more  nearly  to  our  previous  conception  of 
the  Apostolic  Church.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  indica- 
tion here,  any  more  than  elsewhere  in  the  Epistles,  of  an 
open  schism  between  St.  Paul  and  the  Twelve,  which,  had  it 
existed,  could  not  have  failed  to  appear.  Secondly,  the 
differences  are  not  of  such  a  nature  as  to  preclude  the  Church 
of  Jerusalem  from  receiving,  or  the  Apostle  from  giving,  the 
alms  of  the  Gentiles.  Lastly,  the  expression,  ol  doKovuree 
(Ivai  rt,  "  who  seemed  to  be  somewhat,"  although  ironical,  is 
softened  by  what  follows,  oi  boKovvxfs  etvai  (ttvXoi,  "  who 
seemed  to  be  pillars,"  in  which  the  Apostle  expresses  the  real 
greatness  and  high  authority  of  the  Twelve  in  their  separate 
field  of  labor.  Singular  as  the  juxtaposition  is  of  the  false 
brethren,  the  Apostles  "  who  added  nothing  to  him,"  "  the 
persons  who  came  from  James,"  the  tone  of  the  passage,  as 
well  as  of  every  passage  in  which  they  are  named,  shows 
that  on  St.  Paul's  part  there  could  have  been  no  personal 
antagonism  to  the  Twelve. 

But  not  to  anticipate  the  conclusion,  we  must  here  enter  on 
a  further  stage  of  the  same  inquiry,  the  evidence  supplied  by 
the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  and  other  portions  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, on  the  subject  which  we  are  considering.  Is  it  a 
mere  passing  incidental  circumstance,  happening  for  once  in 
their  lives,  that  the  Apostles  of  Jerusalem  and  St.  Paul  met 
and  had  a  partial  dilfference  ?  or  is  the  difference  alluded  to, 
in  a  manner  so  unlike  the  violence  of  later  controversy, 
merely  an  indication  of  a  greater  and  more  radical  difference 
in  the  Church  itself,  faintly  discernible  in  the  persons  of  its 
leaders  ?  We  might  be  disposed  to  answer  "  yes  "  to  the  first 
alternative,  were  the  first  two  chapters  of  the  Galatians  all 
that  remained  to  us ;  we  are  compelled  to  say  "  yes  "  to  the 
second,  when  we  extend  our  view  to  other  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture. 

Everywhere  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  in  the  Acts  of 


864  ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE. 

the  Apostles,  wc  find  traces  of  an  opposition  between  the 
Jew  and  Gentile,  the  circumcision  and  the  uncircumcision. 
It  is  found,  not  only  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  but  in  a 
scarcely  less  aggravated  form  in  the  two  Epistles  to  the 
Corinthians,  softened,  indeed,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans, 
and  yet  distinctly  traceable  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippijms ; 
the  party  of  the  circumcision  appearing  to  triumph  in  A>>ia, 
at  the  very  close  of  the  Apostle's  life,  in  the  second  Epistle 
to  Timothy.  In  all  these  Epistles  we  have  proofs  of  a  reac- 
tion to  Judaism,  but,  though  they  are  addressed  to  churches 
chiefly  of  Gentile  origin,  never  of  a  reaction  to  heathenism. 
Could  this  have  been  the  case,  unless  within  the  Church  itself 
there  had  been  a  Jewish  party  urging  upon  the  members  of 
the  Church  the  performance  of  a  rite  repulsive  in  itself,  if 
not  as  necessary  to  salvation,  at  any  rate  as  a  counsel  of  per- 
fection, seeking  to  make  them,  in  Jewish  language,  not  merely 
proselytes  of  the  gate,  but  proselytes  of  righteousness  ?  What, 
if  not  this,  is  the  revei*se  side  of  the  Epistles  of  St,  Paul? 
that  is  to  say,  the  motives,  object,  or  basis  of  teaching  of  his 
opponents,  who  came  with  "  epistles  of  commendation  "  to  the 
church  of  Corinth,  2  Cor.  iii.  1 ;  who  profess  themselves  **  to 
be  Christ's  "  in  a  special  sense,  2  Cor.  x.  7  ;  who  say  they 
are  of  ApoUos,  or  Cephas,  or  Christ,  1  Cor.  i.  12  ;  or  James, 
Gal.  ii.  12  ;  who  preach  Christ  of  contention,  Phil.  i.  15,  17 ; 
who  deny  St.  Paul's  authority,  1  Cor.  ix.  1,  Gal.  iv.  16 ;  who 
slander  his  life,  1  Cor.  ix.  3,  7.  We  meet  these  persons  at 
every  turn.  Are  they  the  same,  or  different?  Are  they 
mere  chance  opponents  ?  or  do  they  represent  to  us  one  spirit, 
one  mission,  one  determination  to  root  out  the  Apostle  and  bis 
doctrine  from  the  Christian  Church? 

Nothing  but  the  fragmentary  character  of  St.  Paul's  writ- 
ings would  conceal  from  us  tlie  fact,  that  hei*e  was  a  concerted 
and  continuous  opposition.  The  same  features  recur,  the 
same  spirit  breathes,  the  same  accusations  are  repeated 
against  the  Apostle.  Of  going  back  to  dumb  idols  there  is 
Eever  a  word  ;  it  is  not  that  sort  of  return  which  Paul  fears, 
but  the  CDforcemeot  of  circumcision,  the  observance  of  days 


ST.   PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  865 

and  weeks,  the  loss  of  the  freedom  of  the  Gospel.  It  hardly 
needs  to  be  proved,  that  St.  Paul  everywhere  and  at  all  times 
met  with  opposition ;  it  is  equally  evident  on  the  surface  of 
the  Epistles,  that  this  opposition  chiefly  proceeded  from  Ju- 
daizing  Christians.  Still  the  question  recurs.  In  what  rela- 
tion did  its  leaders  stand  to  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem  ?  Be- 
fore attempting  to  answer  this  question  finally,  we  must  pause 
a  moment  to  collect  in  one  the  evidence  supplied  by  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles. 

That  from  the  beginning  the  elements  of  a  division  existed 
in  the  Christian  Church  is  clear  from  the  murmuring  of  the 
Grecians  against  the  Hebrews  for  the  neglect  of  their  widows 
in  the  daily  ministration,  which  led  to  the  appointment  of  the 
seven  deacons.  Indeed,  they  may  be  said  to  have  pre-existed 
in  the  Jewish  and  Gentile  world ;  many  "  schoolmasters " 
were  bringing  men  to  Christ,  and  the  past  history  of  man, 
then  as  now,  seemed  occasionally  to  reawaken  in  the  feelings 
of  individuals.  A  first  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  division  is 
marked  by  the  death  of  Stephen,  which  scattered  a  portion 
of  the  Church,  whom  the  very  circumstance  of  their  persecu- 
tion, as  well  as  their  dispersion  in  foreign  countries,  would 
tend  to  ahenate  from  the  observance  of  the  Jewish  law.  A 
second  epoch  is  distinguished  by  the  preaching  of  St.  Paul 
at  Antioch  ;  immediately  after  which  we  are  informed  that 
the  disciples  were  first  called  Christians.  Then  follows  the 
Council,  the  more  exact  account  of  which  is  supplied  by  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  to  which,  however,  one  point  is 
added  in  the  narrative  of  the  Acts,  —  the  mention  of  certain 
who  came  from  Jerusalem  to  Antioch,  saying,  "  Except  ye 
be  circumcised,  ye  cannot  be  saved."  Passing  onwards  a 
little,  we  arrive  at  the  address  of  St.  Paul  to  the  elders  of 
the  church  of  Ephesus  (Acts  xx.  29,  30),  which  seems  to 
allude  to  the  same  alienation  from  himself  which  had  actually 
taken  place  in  the  Second  Epistle  to  Timothy  (2  Tim.  i.  15). 
At  length  we  come  to  St.  Paul's  last  journey  to  Jerusalem, 
and  his  interview  with  James,  which  was  the  occasion  on 
which,  by  the  advice  of  James,  he  took  a  vow  upon  him,  in 
31=)^ 


366  8T.    PAUL    AND    TIIK    TWELVE. 

Lope  of  calming  the  apprehensions  of  the  multitude  of  "  the 
many  thousand  Jews  who  believed  and  were  all  zealoug  for 
the  law,"  in  which  passage  express  reference  is  made  to  the 
decree  of  the  Council.  These  leading  facts  are  interspersed 
with  slighter  allusions,  which  must  not  be  passed  over  as 
unimportant.  Such  are  the  words,  "  Of  the  rest  durst  no 
man  join  himself  to  them,**  indicating  the  way  of  life  of  the 
Apostles ;  "  A  great  company  of  the  priests  were  obedient 
unto  the  faith,"  vi.  7  ;  "  They  that  were  scattered  abroad  upon 
the  persecution  of  Stephen,  preached  the  word  to  Jews  only,** 
viii.  4 ;  the  priority  attributed  to  James  in  Acts  xii.  17,  "  Go 
show  these  things  to  James  and  the  brethren  " ;  the  mention 
of  the  alms  brought  by  Barnabas  and  Saul  to  Jerusalem  in 
the  days  of  Claudius  Caisar,  xi.  29.  Such  in  the  latter  half 
of  the  Acts  (xxiii.  6)  is  the  declaration  of  St.  Paul  that  he 
is  a  Pharisee.  Nor  is  it  without  significance,  that,  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  this  question  of  the  admission  of  the  Gentiles,  no 
reference  is  made  to  the  command  of  the  Gospels,  "  Go  and 
baptize  all  nations,"  nor  to  the  intercourse  of  Peter  with  Cor- 
nelius ;  and  that  nowhere  are  the  other  Apostles  described  as 
at  variance  with  the  Jewish  Christians;  nor  in  the  whole 
later  history  of  the  Acts  as  suffering  persecution  from  the 
Jews,  or  as  taking  any  share  in  the  persecution  of  St.  Paul. 
Now,  with  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  before  us, 
what  shall  we  say  in  reply  to  the  question  from  which  we 
digressed  ?  What  was  the  relation  of  the  Judaizing  Chris- 
tians to  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem?  Did  those  who  remained 
behind  in  the  Church  regard  the  death  of  the  martyr  Stephen 
with  the  same  feelings  as  those  who  were  scattered  abroad? 
"Were  the  A|K)stles  at  Jerusalem  one  in  heart  with  the  breth- 
ren at  Antioi'ii  ?  Were  the  teachers  who  came  from  Jeru- 
salem to  Antioch,  saying,  **  Except  ye  be  circumcised,  ye 
cannot  be  saved,**  commissioned  by  the  Twelve  ?  Were  the 
Twelve  absolutely  at  one  among  themselves?  Are  the  com- 
mendatory epistles  spoken  of  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Corin- 
thians, to  be  ascribed  to  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem  ?  Can 
**  the  grievous  wolves,**  whose  entrance  into  the  Church  M 


ST.   PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  367 

Ephesus  the  Apostle  foresaw,  be  other  than  the  Judaizing 
teachers  ?  Lastly,  Were  the  multitude  of  beUeving  Jews, 
zealous  for  the  law,  and  quickened  in  their  zeal  for  it  by  the 
very  sight  of  St.  Paul,  engaged  in  the  tumult  which  follows  ? 
These  are  different  ways  of  stating  the  same  question,  or  sub- 
ordinate questions  connected  with  it,  which  of  themselves 
assist  in  supplying  an  answer. 

If  we  conceive  of  the  Apostles  as  exercising  a  strict  and 
definite  authority  over  the  multitude  of  their  converts,  living 
heads  of  the  Church  as  they  might  be  termed,  Peter  or 
James  of  the  circumcision,  and  Paul  of  the  uncircumcision, 
it  would  be  hard  to  avoid  connecting  them  with  the  acts  of 
their  followers.  One  would  think  that,  in  accordance  with 
the  spirit  of  the  concordat,  they  should  have  "  delivered  over 
to  Satan  "  the  opponents  of  St.  Paul,  rather  than  have  lived  in 
communion  and  company  with  them.  To  hold  out  the  right 
hand  of  fellowship  to  Paul  and  Barnabas,  and  yet  secretly  to 
support  or  not  to  discountenance  those  who  opposed  them, 
would  be  'little  short  of  treachery  to  their  common  Master, 
especially  when  we  observe  how  strongly  the  Judaizers  are 
characterized  by  St.  Paul  as  the  false  brethren  who  came  in 
unawares,  the  false  Apostles  transforming  themselves  into 
Apostles  of  Christ,  "  grievous  wolves  entering  in,"  &c.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  striking  than  the  contrast  between  the  vehe- 
mence with  which  St.  Paul  treats  his  Judaizing  antagonists, 
and  the  gentleness  or  silence  which  he  never  fails  to  preserve 
towards  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem. 

Yet  it  may  be  questioned  whether  the  whole  difficulty  does 
not  arise  from  a  false  conception  of  the  authority  of  the  Apos- 
tles in  the  early  Church.  Although  the  first  teachers  of  the 
word  of  Christ,  they  were  not  the  acknowledged  rulers  of  the 
Catholic  Church  ;  they  were  its  prophets,  not  its  bishops. 
The  influence  which  they  exercised  was  personal  rather  than 
official,  derived  doubtless  from  their  having  seen  the  Lord, 
and  the  fact  of  their  appointment  by  himself,  yet  confined 
also  to  a  comparatively  narrow  sphere ;  it  was  exercised  in 
places  in  which  they  were,  but  hardly  extended  to  places 


368  ST.   PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE. 

where  they  were  not.  The  Gospel  grew  up  around  them, 
theycould  not  tell  how  ;  and  the  spirit  which  their  preaching 
awakened  soon  passed  out  of  their  control.  They  seemed  no 
longer  to  be  the  ])rime  movers,  but  rather  the  spectator  of 
the  work  of  God  which  went  on  before  their  eyes.  The 
thousands  of  Jews  that  believed  and  were  zealous  for  the  law, 
would  not  lay  aside  the  garb  of  Judaism  at  the  bidding  of 
James  or  Peter ;  the  false  teachers  of  Corinth  or  of  Ephesus 
would  not  have  been  less  likely  to  gain  followers,  had  they 
been  excommunicated  by  them.  The  movement  which,  in 
twenty  yeare  from  the  death  of  Christ,  had  spread  so  widely 
over  the  earth,  they  no  more  sought  to  reduce  to  rule  and 
compass.  It  was  out  of  their  power,  beyond  their  reach,  ex- 
tending to  churches  which  had  no  connection  with  themselves, 
of  the  circumstances  of  which  they  were  hardly  informed,  and 
in  which,  therefore,  it  was  not  natural  that  they  should  inter- 
fere between  St.  Paul  and  his  opponents. 

The  moment  we  think  of  the  Church,  not  as  an  ecclesias- 
tical or  political  institution,  but  as  it  was  in  the  first  age,  a 
spiritual  body,  that  is  to  say,  a  body  partly  Qioved  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  but  dependent  also  on  the  tempers  and  sympa- 
thies of  men,  and  swayed  to  and  fro  by  religious  emotion,  the 
narrative  of  Scripture  seems  perfectly  truthful  and  naturaL 
When  the  waves  are  high,  we  see  but  a  little  way  over  the 
ocean ;  the  very  intensity  of  religious  feeling  is  inconsistent 
with  a  uniform  level  of  church  government.  It  is  not  a  rejni- 
lar  hierarchy,  but  "  some  apostles,  some  prophets,  some  evan- 
gelists, others  pastors  and  teachers,**  who  grew  together  "  into 
the  body  of  ChrisL**  The  image  of  the  earlier  Chun;h  that 
is  everywhere  presented  to  us  in  the  Epistles  implies  great 
freedom  of  individual  action.  Apollos  and  Barnabas  were  not 
under  the  guidance  of  Paul ;  those  "  who  were  distinguished 
among  the  Ai)Ostle8  boforo  him  "  could  hardly  have  owned  his 
authority.  Nor  is  any  attempt  made  to  bring  the  different 
churches  under  a  common  system.  We  cannot  imagine  any 
bond  by  which  they  could  have  been  linked  together,  without 
on  order  of  clergy  or  form  of  church  government  common  to 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  369 

them  all ;  and  of  this  there  is  no  trace  in  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul.  It  was  hard  to  keep  the  church  at  Corinth  at  unity 
with  itself;  how  much  harder  to  have  brought  other  churches 
into  union  with  it ! 

Of  this  fluctuating  state  of  the  Church,  which  was  not  yet 
addicted  to  any  one  rule,  we  find  an  indication  of  a  different 
kind  in  the  freedom,  almost  levity,  with  which  professing 
Christians  embraced  "  traditions  of  men."  Nothing  was  less 
like  the  attitude  of  the  church  of  Corinth  towards  the  Apos- 
tle, than  the  implicit  belief  in  a  faith  "  once  delivered  to  the 
saints."  We  know  not  whether  Apollos  was  or  was  not  a 
teacher  of  Alexandrian  learning  among  its  members,  or  what 
was  the  exact  nature  of  "  the  party  of  Christ,"  1  Cor.  i.  12. 
That  heathen  as  well  as  Jewish  elements  had  found  their  way 
into  the  Church  is  indicated  by  the  false  "  wisdom,"  the  denial 
of  the  resurrection,  and  the  resort  to  the  idol's  temple.  In  the 
church  at  Colossce,  again,  something  was  suspected  by  the 
Apostle,  which  is  dimly  seen  by  us,  and  seems  to  have  held 
an  intermediate  position  between  Judaism  and  heathenism ;  or 
rather  to  have  partaken  of  the  nature  of  both.  It  was  wis- 
dom the  Greek  sought  after,  the  want  of  which  in  the  Gospel 
was  his  great  stumbling-block,  which  he  was  most  likely, 
therefore,  to  intrude  upon  its  teaching.  The  tendency  of  the 
Jew  was  at  once  to  humanize  and  mysticize  it ;  he  could  never 
have  enough  of  wonders  (1  Cor.  i.  22),  yet  was  unable  to 
understand  its  true  wonder,  "  the  cross  of  Christ." 

Amid  such  fluctuation  and  variety  of  opinions  we  can  imag- 
ine Paul  and  Apollos,  or  Paul  and  Peter,  preaching  side  by 
side  in  the  church  of  Corinth  or  of  Antioch,  like  Wesley  and 
Whitefield  in  the  last  century,  or  Luther  and  Calvin  at  the 
Reformation,  with  a  sincere  reverence  for  each  other,  not 
abstaining  from  commenting  on  or  condemning  each  other's 
doctrine  or  practice,  and  yet  also  forgetting  their  differences 
in  their  common  zeal  to  save  the  souls  of  men.  Personal  re- 
gard is  quite  consistent  with  differences  of  religious  belief; 
some  of  which,  with  good  men,  are  a  kiiid  of  form,  belonging 
only  to  their  outer  nature,  most  of  which,  as  we  hope,  exist 


870  ST.   PAUL    AND    THE   TWELVE. 

only  on  this  side  the  grave.  We  can  imagine  the  followers  o< 
tiucli  men  as  we  have  been  describing  incapable  of  acting  in 
their  noble  spirit,  with  a  feebler  sense  of  their  high  calling, 
and  a  stronger  one  of  their  points  of  disagreement ;  losing 
the  great  principle  for  which  they  were  alike  contending  ir- 
"oppositions  of  knowledge,"  in  prejudice  and  personality. 
And  lastly,  we  may  conceive  the  disciples  of  Wesley  or  of 
Whitefield  (for  of  the  Apostles  themselves  we  forbear  to 
move  the  question)  reacting  upon  their  masters,  and  drawing 
them  into  the  vicious  circle  of  controversy,  disuniting  them  in 
their  lives,  though  at  the  last  hour  incapable  of  making  a  sep- 
aration between  them. 

Of  such  a  nature  we  believe  the  differences  to  have  been 
which  separated  St.  Paul  and  the  Twelve,  arising  in  some 
degree  from  differences  of  individual  character,  but  much 
more  from  their  followers,  and  the  circumstances  of  their  lives. 
They  were  differences  which  seldom  brought  them  into  con- 
tact, and  once  or  twice  only  into  collision  ;  they  did  not  with 
logical  exactness  divide  the  world.  It  may  have  been,  **  I 
unto  the  heathen,  and  they  unto  the  circumcision  " ;  and  yet 
St.  Paul  may  have  felt  a  deep  respect  for  those  "  that  seemed 
to  be  pillars,"  and  they  may  have  acknowledged  thankfully  the 
success  of  his  labors.  It  is  not  even  necessary  to  suppose 
that  the  agreement  of  the  Council,  the  terms  of  which  are  dif- 
ferently described  in  Galatians  ii.  and  Acts  xv.,  wtis  minutely 
observed  for  a  long  period  of  years.  The  freedom  which 
made  it  possible  that  the  differences  between  Jew  and  Gentile 
should  coexist,  made  it  im|)Ossible  that  the  Twelve  should 
always  be  able  to  control  their  followers,  and  unlikely  that 
they  themselves  should  wholly  abstain  from  showing  their 
sym[)athy  towards  those  who  seemed  to  be  joined  to  them  by 
the  ties  of  nationality.  A  party  in  the  church  of  Corinth 
Fought  to  call  itself  by  their  name,  in  opposition  to  that  of  St. 
Paul :  it  was  they,  probably,  who  gave  "  the  epistles  of  com- 
mendation **  to  those  who  taught  at  Corinth  :  they,  or  at  least 
one  of  their  number,  sent  messeJigers  <rom  Jerusalem  to  An- 
tioch,  at  a  critical  moment,  in  the  dispute  about  circumcision. 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  371 

Admitting  even  the  darkest  color  that  can  be  put  upon 
these  latter  facts,  still  the  absence  of  all  hostile  allusion  to  the 
Twelve  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  the  circumstance  of  the 
Jerusalem  church  being  supported  by  the  contributions  of 
the  Gentiles,  the  other  circumstance  of  teachers  of  the  cir- 
cumcision being  among  the  companions  of  St.  Paul  in  his 
imprisonment  (Col.  iv.  10,  11),  the  appeal  to  the  witness 
and  example  of  the  other  Apostles  (1  Cor.  xv.  5,  ix.  5),  are 
sufficient  to  justify  the  view  which  we  took  at  the  outset  of 
the  relation  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Twelve :  "  Separation,  not 
opposition,  antagonism  of  the  followers  rather  than  of  the 
leaders,  personal  antipathy  of  the  Judaizers  to  St.  Paul,  more 
than  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Judaizers."  Many  things  must  have 
been  done  by  the  fanaticism  of  professing  adherents,  of  which 
it  was  impossible  for  the  Twelve  to  approve,  —  which,  when 
separated  by  distance,  it  was  equally  impossible  for  them  to 
repress.  Even  at  Jerusalem,  under  the  eye  of  the  Apostles, 
though  it  may  be  uncertain  whether  "  the  multitude  zealous 
for  the  law "  were  the  same  or  partly  the  same  with  that 
which  was  engaged  in  the  tumult  against  St.  Paul,  it  is  plain 
that  James  speaks  of  them  as  incapable  of  being  swayed  by 
his  authority.  It  was  the  impossibility  of  exercising  this 
authority  that  justified  the  Twelve,  and  made  it  possible,  in 
spite  of  their  adherents,  that  they  should  remain  in  the  love 
of  their  common  Lord  towards  St.  Paul. 

Regarding,  then,  the  whole  number  of  believers  in  Judaea,  in 
Greece,  in  Italy,  in  Egypt,  in  Asia,  as  a  sort  of  fluctuating 
mass,  of  w^hom  there  were  not  many  wise,  not  many  learned, 
not  all  governed  by  the  maxims  of  common  prudence,  needing 
many  times  to  have  the  way  of  God  expounded  to  them  more 
perfectly,  and,  from  their  imperfect  knowledge,  arrayed  against 
one  another,  subject  to  spiritual  impulses,  and  often  mingling 
with  the  truth  Jewish  and  sometimes  heathen  notions  ;  we 
seem  to  see  the  Twelve  placed  on  an  eminence  above  them, 
and,  as  it  were,  apart  from  them,  acting  upon  them  rather  than 
governing  them,  retired  from  the  scene  of  St.  Paul's  labors, 
and  therefore  hardly  coming  into  conflict  with  him,  either  by 


372  ST.    PAUL    AND    THE   TWELVE. 

word  or  by  letter.  They  led  a  life  such  as  St.  James  is 
described  as  leading  by  Hegesippus,  "  going  up  into  the 
temple  at  the  hour  of  prayer,"  reverenced  by  a  multitude  of 
followers  zealous  for  the  law,  themselves,  like  Peter,  half 
conscious  of  a  higher  truth,  and  yet  by  their  very  position 
debarred  from  being  its  ministei*s.  Though  bearing  the  com- 
mon name  of  Christ,  it  was  not  by  accident,  but  by  agreement, 
that  they  were  led  to  labor  in  different  spheres.  The  world, 
as  we  might  say,  was  wide  enough  for  them  both.  The  Apos- 
tle St.  Paul's  rule  is  not  to  intrude  upon  another  man's  laboi-s, 
but  he  does  not  aim  at  confining  any  province  or  district  to 
himself  or  to  his  followers.  lie  makes  no  claim  to  be  the  visi- 
ble head  of  any  section  of  the  Church,  but  only  the  servant  of 
Christ.  Even  the  hold  he  retains  over  his  own  c6nverts  is 
precarious  and  uncertain.  The  idea  of  a  Catholic  Church 
one  and  indivisible  throughout  the  earth  had  not  as  yet  come 
into  existence,  though  the  way  for  it  was  preparing,  and  the 
elements  out  of  which  it  arose  were  already  working. 

The  inquiry  into  the  relation  in  which  St.  Paul  stood  to 
the  Twelve  runs  up  into  a  further  question  respecting  the 
Grospel  which  they  preached.  "  What  was  that  different 
form  or  aspect  of  Ciiristian  truth  which  was  called  the  Gospel 
of  the  circumcision,  as  compared  with  that  of  the  uncircum- 
cision?"  Was  it  a  difference  of  doctrine  or  of  practice,  of 
belief  or  of  spirit  ?  Viewed  as  a  matter  of  doctrine,  we  are 
almost  surprised  to  find  into  how  small  a  compass  the  differ- 
ence reduces  itself.  So  St.  Paul  himself  seems  to  have  felt, 
even  amid  his  strongest  denunciations  of  the  Judaizing  teach- 
ers. All  were  baptized  in  the  name  of  Christ,  with  whom 
the  Twelve  had  walked  while  he  was  upon  earth ;  whom  St. 
Paul,  equally  with  them,  had  seen  with  the  spiritual  eye,  as 
"one  born  out  of  due  time."  It  was  the  same  Christ  whom 
they  preached  (there  was  no  dispute  about  this),  though  the 
manner  of  preaching  may  have  differed  with  difference  of 
natural  character  or  education,  or  the  different  manner  of  his 
revelation  to  them.  "  Other  foundation  could  no  man  lay,"  as 
tlie  Apostle  says  to  the  church  at  Corinth,  though  he  might 


ST.   PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  373 

build  many  superstructures.  It  was  not  "another  Gospel," 
as  he  indignantly  declares  to  the  church  in  Galatia,  for  there 
was  not  and  could  not  be  another.  Or,  according  to  another 
manner  of  speaking  (2  Cor.  xi.  4),  it  was  still  Jesus,  though 
another  Jesus  ;  and  the  spirit,  though  another  spirit.  In  the 
church  of  Rome,  as  the  Apostle  writes  to  the  Philippians, 
there  were  those  who  preached  Christ  of  contention,  in  which 
the  Apostle  nevertheless  rejoiced,  as  an  honor  to  the  name  of 
Christ.  That  in  the  Judaizing  teachers,  as  well  as  the  Apos- 
tles themselves,  St.  Paul  saw  at  any  time  true  though  mis- 
taken preachers  of  the  Word,  is  a  fact  of  great  significance  in 
reference  to  our  present  purpose.  The  cross  of  Christ  was 
peculiarly  the  symbol  of  St.  Paul,  yet  all  probably,  or  almost 
all,  looked  with  common  feelings  of  affection  to  Him  who  died 
for  them. 

But  not  only  did  St.  Paul  and  the  Twelve  regard  the  name 
of  Christ  with  the  same  feelings  (a  statement  which  might  be 
made  almost  equally  of  nearly  all  the  earliest  heretical  sects), 
but  they  agreed  also  in  considering  the  Old  Testament,  rightly 
understood,  as  the  source  of  the  New.  The  mystery  of  past 
ages  was  latent  there.  Through  so  many  centuries,  it  had 
been  misunderstood  or  unknown  :  it  had  now  come  to  light. 
The  same  God  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners 
spake  in  times  past  to  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  had  in 
these  last  days  spoken  to  men  by  his  Son.  There  was  no 
opposition  between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New ;  it  was 
the  law,  with  its  burden  on  the  conscience,  and  its  questions 
respecting  meats  and  drinks,  and  new  moons  and  Sabbaths, 
which  contrasted  with  the  Gospel. 

Once  more  :  besides  the  name  of  Christ,  and  the  connection 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  another  point  common  to  St. 
Paul  and  the  Twelve  was  their  expectation  of  the  day  of  the 
Lord.  Nowhere  does  the  Apostle  appear  so  much  "  a  He- 
brew of  the  Hebrews,"  as  in  speaking  of  the  invisible  world. 
He  opposes  this  world  and  the  next,  as  the  times  before  and 
after  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  were  divided  by  the  Jews 
themselves ;  he  sees  them  peopled  with  a  celestial  hierarchy 
32 


374  ST.   PAUL    AND    THE   TWELVE. 

of  good  and  evil  angels.  He  is  waiting  for  the  revelation  of 
Antichrist,  and  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God.  The 
same  signs  follow  the  reception  of  the  Gospel  in  the  churches 
founded  by  the  Twelve  and  by  St.  Paul ;  "  The  Holy  Ghost 
fell  upon  them  as  upon  us  at  the  beginning,"  might  have  been 
the  description  of  the  church  of  Corinth,  no  less  than  of  the 
church  at  Jerusalem.  And,  as  St.  Paul  says,  in  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  in  reference  to  the  admission  of  the  Gentiles, 
"  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,"  Peter  commences  his 
address  to  Cornelius  with  the  words,  "  Of  a  truth  I  perceive 
God  is  no  respecter  of  persons." 

Even  setting  aside  the  last  passage,  as  hard  to  reconcile 
with  the  subsequent  conduct  of  Peter,  still  enough  remains  to 
show  that  the  Gospel  preached  by  St.  Paul  and  the  Twelve 
was  in  substance  the  same.  To  preach  to  the  Gentiles,  it 
must  be  remembered,  was  a  command  of  Christ  him.-elf.  If, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Epistle  of  St.  James,  we  have  no 
epistles  extant  which  bear  the  impress  of  Jewish  Christianity, 
still  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  the  three  first  Gospels  repre- 
sent in  the  main  the  model  on  which  was  based  the  teaching  of 
the  Twelve  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  difference  between  St.  Paul's 
Epistles  and  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  is  a  fair  measure  of 
the  utmost  limits  of  the  distance  which  separated  the  Apostle 
of  the  Gentiles  from  the  Apostles  of  the  Circumcision. 

Admitting  such  points  of  agreement,  the  differences  lie 
within  narrow  limits ;  they  could  not  have  originated  in  any- 
thing that  we  should  consider  fundamental  articles  of  the 
Christian  faith.  They  may  have  arisen  out  of  a  sympathy 
for,  or  antipathy  towards,  the  Alexandrian  learning.  The 
mere  difft'rence  of  language  may  have  made  the  same  kind 
of  difference  between  the  church  at  Jerusalem  and  those 
founded  by  St.  Paul,  as  divides  the  Old  Testament  from  the 
later  Apocryphal  books.  Much  also,  humanly  speaking,  may 
have  arisen  from  the  difference  in  their  way  of  life.  Those 
who  went  up  to  the  temple  at  the  hour  of  pmyer,  who  lived 
amid  the  smoke  of  the  daily  sacrifices,  could  hardly  have  felt 
and  thought  and  spoken  as  the  Apostle  of  the  Grentiles, 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  375 

wandering  through  Greece  and  Asia,  from  city  to  city,  in 
barbarous  as  well  as  civilized  countries  ;  they  at  least  could 
not  have  been  expected  to  say,  "  Let  no  man  judge  you  of  a 
new  moon  or  a  Sabbath  day."  Like  our  Lord  remaining 
within  the  confines  of  Judaga,  there  were  many  truths  which 
they  were  not  called  upon  to  utter  in  the  same  emphatic  way 
as  St.  Paul. 

Such  are  a  few  conjectures  respecting  the  nature  of  the 
difference  which  separated  St.  Paul  from  the  Twelve.  The 
point  that  is  independent  of  conjecture  is,  that  it  related  to 
the  obligation  on  the  Gentiles  to  keep  the  Mosaic  law.  It 
is  characteristic  of  the  earhest  times  of  the  Church,  that  the 
dispute  referred  rather  to  a  matter  of  practice  than  of  doc- 
trine. Long  ere  the  Gospel  was  drawn  out  in  a  system  of 
doctrine,  the  difference  between  Judaism  and  Christianity  was 
instinctively  felt.  There  were  times  and  places  in  which, 
even  in  the  mind  of  the  Christian,  Jewish  prejudices  seemed 
too  strong  for  the  freedom  wherewith  Christ  had  made  him 
free.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  allowing  that  all  nations 
were  to  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  Christ,  and  that  there  was 
to  be  one  fold  and  one  Shepherd.  This  had  been  determined 
by  an  authority  from  which  there  could  be  no  appeal.  The 
difficulty  was  to  go  in  "  to  men  uncircumcised,  and  eat  with 
them,"  amid  the  derision  or  persecution  of  Jews,  or  Jewish 
Christians.  Our  Lord  had  decided  that  Gentiles  were  to  be 
admitted  to  the  Church  ;  but  on  what  conditions  they  were  to 
be  so  admitted,  was  left  to  be  inferred  from  the  spirit  of  his 
teaching.  There  was  no  putting  an  end  to  the  controversy  ; 
and  the  timidity  of  St.  Peter,  and  the  conciliatory  temper  of 
St.  Paul,  indicate  a  disposition  to  maintain  these  scruples,  or 
an  unwillingness  to  disturb  them. 

The  adoption  of  a  theory,  which,  however  innocently,  we 
fail  to  carry  out  in  practice,  almost  necessarily  involves  incon- 
sistency. Suppose  a  person  maintaining  liberty  of  conscience, 
yet  refusing  to  avail  himself  of  that  liberty,  or  to  act  as 
though  he  maintained  it,  is  it  not  nearly  certain  that,  when 
surrounded  by  particular  influences,  he  would  cease  to  maintitin 


876  ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE. 

it  ?  Few,  comparatively,  have  sufficient  strength  of  character 
to  carry  a  single  speculative  principle  through  life.  Expe- 
rience shows  that  inconsistency,  so  far  from  being  rare,  is  the 
commonest  of  all  failings.  Narrowness  of  intellect,  and  fee- 
bleness of  perception,  are  quite  as  common  causes  of  it  as 
weakness  of  character.  The  mind,  under  the  pressure  of  new 
circumstances,  and  in  a  strange  place,  ceases  to  perceive  that 
old  principles  are  still  applicable.  Its  sympathies  draw  it  one 
way,  its  sense  of  right  another.  The  habits  of  youth,  or  the 
instincts  of  childhood,  reassert  themselves  in  mature  life.  He 
who  is  the  first,  and  even  the  ablest,  to  speak,  may  be  often 
deficient  in  firmness  of  will  or  grasp  of  mind.  Such  reflec- 
tions on  human  nature  are  sufficient  to  explain  the  conduct  of 
Peter,  and  they  are  confirmed  by  what  we  know  of  him. 

Adding  to  our  former  indications  of  the  relations  in  which 
the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  stood  to  the  Twelve  such  further 
evidences  as  we  are  able  to  glean  from  the  teaching  and 
character  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  we  have  to  carry  our 
inquiry  into  a  third  stage,  as  it  reappeai-s  once  more  in  what 
may  be  tenned  the  twilight  of  ecclesiastical  history,  —  that 
century  after  the  Neronian  persecution,  of  which  we  know 
so  little,  and  desire  to  know  so  much ;  the  aching  void  of 
which  we  are  tempted  to  fill  up  with  the  image  of  the  century 
which  succeeds  it.  To  collect  together  all  the  scattered  rays 
which  might  illustrate  our  subject,  would  carry  us  too  far  into 
the  general  history  of  the  Ciiurch,  and  lead  to  discussions 
respecting  the  genuineness  of  Patristic  writings,  and  the  truth 
of  events  narrated  in  them.  The  "  romance  of  heresy  ** 
would  be  the  mist  of  fiction,  through  which  we  should  en- 
deavor to  penetrate  to  tlie  light.  The  origin  of  episcopal 
government,  which  seems  to  stand  in  a  sort  of  antagonism  to 
heresy,  would  be  one  of  the  elements  of  our  uncertainty. 
We  should  have  to  begin  by  forming  a  criterion  of  the  credi- 
bility of  Irenieus,  Clement,  Tertullian,  Origen,  and  Eusebius. 
But  a  subject  so  wide  is  matter  not  for  an  essay,  but  for  a 
book ;  it  is  the  history  of  the  Church  of  the  first  two  cen- 
turies.    We  must  therefore  narrow  our  field  of  nsion  as 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  877 

much  as  possible,  and  confine  ourselves  to  the  consideration 
of  this  third  stage  of  our  subject,  so  far  as  it  throws  a  remote 
light  back  on  the  differences  of  the  Apostles,  drawing  con- 
clusions only  which  rest  on  facts  that  are  generally  admitted. 

Two  general  facts  meet  us  at  the  outset,  which  it  is  neces- 
sary to  bear  in  mind  in  the  attempt  to  balance  the  more  par 
ticular  statements  that  follow.  First,  the  utter  ignorance  of 
the  third  century  respecting  the  first,  and  earlier  half  of  the 
second.  We  cannot  err  in  supposing  that  those  who  could 
add  nothing  to  what  is  recorded  in  the  New  Testament  of  the 
life  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  had  no  real  knowledge  of 
lesser  matters,  as,  for  example,  the  origin  of  episcopacy. 
They  could  not  appreciate  ;  they  had  no  means  of  preserving 
the  memory  of  a  state  of  the  Church  which  was  unlike  their 
own.  Irena^us,  who  lived  within  a  century  of  St.  Paul,  has 
not  added  a  single  circumstance  to  what  we  gather  from  the 
New  Testament.  Eusebius,  with  the  writings  of  Papias  and 
Hegesippus,  and  all  ecclesiastical  antiquity  before  him,  has 
preserved  nothing  which  relates  to  the  difference  of  St.  Paul 
and  the  Twelve,  or  which  throws  the  smallest  light  on  any 
other  difficulty  in  the  New  Testament.  The  image  of  the 
primitive  Church  which  they  seemed  to  see,  when  it  was  not 
mere  vacancy,  was  the  image  of  themselves. 

The  second  general  fact  is  the  unconsciousness  of  this  igno- 
rance, and  the  readiness  with  which  the  vacant  space  is  filled 
up,  and  the  Church  of  the  second  century  assimilated  to  that 
of  the  third  and  fourth.  Human  nature  tends  to  conceal  that 
which  is  discordant  to  its  preconceived  notions  ;  silently 
dropping  some  facts,  exaggerating  others,  adding,  where 
needed,  new  tone  and  coloring,  until  the  disguise  of  history 
can  no  longer  be  detected.  By  some  such  process  has  the 
circumstance  we  are  inquiring  into  been  forgotten  and  re- 
produced. Not  only  what  may  be  termed  the  "  animus  "  of 
concealment  is  traceable  in  the  strange  account  of  the  dispute 
between  the  Apostles,  given  by  Jerome  and  Chrysostom,  but 
in  earlier  writings,  in  which  the  two  Apostles  ap|)ear  side  by 
side  as  cofounders,  not  only  of  the  Roman,  but  also  of  the 

32* 


878  ST.   PAUL    AND    THE   TTTELVE. 

Corinthian  church ;  as  pleading  their  cause  together  before 
Tiberius  ;  dying  on  the  same  day  ;  buried,  according  to  somej 
in  the  same  grave.  The  motive,  or,  more  strictly  speaking, 
the  unconscious  instinct,  which  gave  birth  to  this  acknowl- 
edged fiction  was,  probably,  the  desire  to  throw  a  veil  over 
that  occasion  on  which  they  withstood  one  another  to  the  face. 
And  the  truth  indistinctly  shines  through  this  legend  of  the 
latter  part  of  the  second  century,  when  it  is  further  recorded 
that  St.  Paul  was  the  head  of  the  Gentile  Church,  Peter  of 
the  circumcision. 

Beaiing  in  mind  these  two  general  facts,  the  tendency  of 
which  is  to  throw  a  degree  of  doubt  on  the  early  ecclesiastical 
tradition,  and  so  to  lead  us  to  seek  for  indications  out  of  the 
regular  course  of  history,  we  have  to  consider,  in  reference  to 
our  present  subject,  the  following  statements :  — 

1.  That  Justin,  and  probably  Hegesippus  and  Papias,  liv- 
ing at  a  time  when  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  must  have  been 
widely  spread,  were  unacquainted  with  them  or  their  author. 

2.  That  Marcion,  who  was  their  contemporary,  appealed 
exclusively  to  the  authority  of  St.  Paul  in  opposition  to  the 
Twelve. 

3.  That  in  the  account  of  James  the  Just,  given  by  Jose- 
phus  and  Hegesippus,  he  is  represented  as  a  Jew  among 
Jews;  living,  according  to  Hegesippus,  the  hfe  of  a  Nazarite; 
praying  in  the  temple  until  his  knees  became  hard  as  a 
camel's,  and  so  entirely  a  Jew  as  to  be  unknown  to  the  people 
for  a  Christian ;  a  picture  which,  though  its  features  may  \ye 
exaggerated,  yet  has  the  trace  of  a  true  resemblance  to  the 
part  which  we  find  him  acting  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians. 

4.  That  in  the  Ch^mentine  Homilies,  A.  D.  160,  though  a 
work  otherwise  orthodox,  St.  Paul  is  covertly  introduced 
under  the  name  of  Simon  Magus,  as  the  enemy  who  had  pre- 
tended visions  and  revelations,  and  who  withstood  and  blamed 
Peter.  No  writer  doubts  the  allusion  in  these  passages  to 
the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  Assuming  th<'ir  connection,  we 
cannot  but  ask,  a.^  bearing  on  our  present  inquiry.  What  was 
the  state  of  mind  which  could  have  led  on  orthodox  Christian, 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  379 

v/lio  lived  probably  at  Kome,  about  the  middle  of  the  second 
century,  to  affix  such  a  character  to  St.  Paul  ?  and  what  was 
the  motive  which  induced  him  to  veil  his  meaning  ?  What, 
too,  could  have  been  the  state  of  the  Church  in  which  such  a 
romance  could  have  grown  up?  and  how  could  the  next 
generation  have  read  it  without  perceiving  its  true  aim? 
Doubtful  as  may  be  the  precise  answer  to  these  questions,  we 
cannot  attribute  this  remarkable  work  to  the  wayward  fancy 
of  an  individual ;  it  is  an  indication  of  a  real  tendency  of  the 
first  and  second  century,  at  a  time  when  the  flame  was  almost 
extinguished,  but  still  slumbered  in  the  mind  of  the  writer  of 
the  Clementine  Homilies. 

5.  Lastly,  that  in  later  writings  we  find  no  trace  of  the 
mind  of  St.  Paul.  His  influence,  for  a  season,  seems  to 
vanish  from  the  world.  On  such  a  basis  as  "  where  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty,"  it  might  have  been 
impossible  to  rear  the  fabric  of  a  hierarchy.  But  the  tide  of 
ecclesiastical  feeling  set  in  an  opposite  direction.  It  was  not 
merely  that  after-writers  fell  short  of  St.  Paul,  or  imperfectly 
interpreted  him,  but  that  they  formed  themselves  on  a  differ- 
ent mod(jl.  It  was  not  merely  that  the  external  constitution 
of  the  Church  had  received  a  definite  form  and  shape,  but 
that  the  inward  perception  of  the  nature  of  the  Gospel  was 
different.  No  writer  of  the  latter  half  of  the  second  century 
would  have  spoken  as  St.  Paul  has  done  of  the  Law,  of  the 
Sabbath,  of  justification  by  faith  only,  of  the  Spirit,  of  grace. 
An  echo  of  a  part  of  his  teaching  is  heard  in  Augustine  ; 
with  this  exception,  the  voice  of  him  who  withstood  Peter  to 
the  face  at  Antioch  was  silent  in  the  Church  until  the  Refor- 
mation. 

Gathering  around  us,  then,  once  more,  the  grounds  on 
which  our  judgment  must  be  formed  from  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul,  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  the  earliest  ecclesiastical 
tradition,  we  arrive  once  more  at  the  thrice-repeated  conclu- 
sion, that  the  relation  of  St.  Paul  and  the  Twelve  was  separa- 
tion, not  opposition  ;  antagonism  of  the  followers,  rather  than 
of  the  leaders ;  enmity  of  the  Judaizers  to  St.  Paul,  not  of 


HSO  ST.   PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE. 

St.  Paul  to  the  Judaizers.  Naturally,  the  principle  of  the 
Apostle  was  triumphant ;  commencing  like  the  struggle  of 
Athanasius  against  the  world,  it  ended  as  the  struggle  of  the 
world  must  end  against  the  half-extinct  remnant  of  the  Jewish 
race.  But  th'e  good  fight  which  the  Apostle  fought,  was  not 
immediately  crowned  by  the  final  victory.  In  the  dawn  of 
ecclesiastical  history,  as  the  Twelve  were  one  by  one  with- 
drawn from  the  scene,  the  battle  was  still  going  on,  dimly 
seen  by  us  within  and  without  the  Church  ;  its  last  shadows 
seeming  to  retire  from  view  in  the  Easter  controversy  of  the 
second  century.  Two  events  especially  exercised  a  great 
influence  on  it.  First,  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  the 
flight  to  Pella  of  the  Christian  community  ;  secondly,  the 
revolt  under  Barchocab ;  both  tending  to  separate,  more  and 
more,  both  in  fact  and  the  opinion  of  mankind,  the  Christian 
from  the  Jew.  At  length,  the  succession  of  Jewish  Christian 
episcopacy  ceased ;  the  first  Bishop  of  -^lia  Capitolina  being 
a  Gentile. 

That  that  intermediate  century  of  which  we  know  so  little 
was  not  a  period  in  which  the  Church  had  reason  to  glory,  is 
witnessed  to  by  the  very  absence  of  memorials  respecting  it. 
There  was  a  want  of  great  teachers  after  the  Apostles  were 
withdrawn  ;  then,  according  to  the  idea  of  a  later  generation, 
when  there  were  no  more  living  heads,  heresy  sprang  up. 
There  was  something  in  that  century  which  those  who  fol- 
lowed it  were  either  unwilling  to  recall,  or  unable  to  compre- 
hend. The  Church  was  in  process  of  organization,  fencing 
itself  with  creeds  and  liturgies,  taking  possession  of  the  earth 
with  its  hierarchy.  The  principle  of  St,  Paul  triumphs,  and 
yet  it  seems  to  have  lost  the  spirit  and  power  of  St.  Paul. 
There  is  no  more  question  of  Jew  and  Gentile ;  but  neither 
is  there  any  trace  of  the  freedom  of  the  Apostle.  The  lesson 
which  that  age  silently  learned,  was  that  of  ecclesiastical 
order  and  government.  It  built  up  the  body  of  Christ  from 
without,  as  St.  Paul  had  built  it  up  from  within.  And  there 
would  have  been  the  smne  inconsistency  in  supposing  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  Apostle  could  have  been  fully  received  in  the 


ST.    PAUL    AND    THE    TWELVE.  381 

second  century,  as  in  supposing  that  he  himself  would  have 
preached  it  in  Palestine  in  the  first. 

It  would  be  vain  to  carry  our  inquiry  further,  with  a  view 
to  glean  a  few  doubtful  results  respecting  the  first  half  of  the 
second  century.  Remote  probabilities  and  isolated  facts  are 
hardly  worth  balancing.  By  some  course  of  events  with 
which  we  are  imperfectly  acquainted,  the  providence  of  God 
leading  the  way,  and  the  thoughts  of  man  following,  the  Jewish 
Passover  became  the  Christian  Easter ;  the  Jewish  Sabbath 
the  Christian  Sunday  ;  circumcision  passed  into  uncircum- 
cision  ;  the  law  was  done  away  in  Christ,  while  the  Old  Tes- 
tament retained  its  authority  over  Gentile  as  well  as  Jewish 
Christians  ;  and  the  party  which  would  have  excommunicated 
St.  Paul,  before  the  end  of  the  second  century  had  itself  left 
the  Church.  The  relation  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Twelve  may  be 
regarded  as  the  type  and  symbol,  and,  in  some  degree,  the 
cause  of  that  final  adjustment  of  the  differences  between  Jew 
and  Gentile,  without  which  it  would  not  have  been  possible, 
humanly  speaking,  that  the  Gospel  could  have  become  an 
universal  rehgion. 


EVILS    IN   THE    CHURCH    OF    THE    APOS- 
TOLICAL   AGE. 

By  benjamin  JOWETT. 


Were  we,  with  the  view  of  forming  a  judgment  of  the 
moral  state  of  the  early  Church,  to  examine  the  subjects  of 
rebuke  most  frequently  referred  to  by  the  Apostles,  these 
would  be  found  to  range  themselves  under  four  heads : 
first,  licentiousness  ;  secondly,  disorder ;  thirdly,  scruples  of 
conscience ;  fourthly,  strifes  about  doctrine  and  teachers.  The 
consideration  of  these  four  subjects,  the  two  former  falling  in 
with  the  argument  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  the 
two  latter  more  closely  connected  with  the  Romans  and  the 
Galatians,  will  give  what  may  be  termed  the  darker  side  of 
the  primitive  Church. 

1.  Licentiousness  was  the  besetting  sin  of  the  Roman 
world.  Except  by  a  miracle,  it  was  impossible  that  the  new 
converts  could  be  at  once  and  wholly  freed  from  it.  It  lin- 
gered in  the  flesh  when  the  spirit  had  cast  it  off*.  It  had 
interwoven  itself  in  the  pagan  religions ;  and,  if  we  may  be- 
lieve the  writings  of  adversaries,  was  ever  reappearing  on 
the  confines  of  the  Church  in  the  earliest  heresies.  Even 
within  the  pale  of  the  Church,  it  might  assume  the  form  of  a 
mystic  Christianity.  The  very  ecstasy  of  conversion  would 
often  lead  to  a  reaction.  Nothing  is  more  natural  than  that 
in  a  licentious  city,  like  Corinth  or  Ephesus,  those  who  were 
impressed  by  St.  Paul's  teaching  should  have  gone  their  way, 
and  returned  to  their  former  life.      In  this   case   it  would 


884  EVILS   IN    THE    APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH. 

Beldom  happen  that  they  apostatized  into  the  ranks  of  the 
heathen:  the  same  impulse  which  led  them  to  the  Gospel 
would  lead  them  also  to  bridge  the  gulf  which  separated  them 
from  its  purer  morality.  Many  may  have  sinned  and  repent- 
ed again  and  again,  unable  to  stand  themselves  in  the  general 
corruption,  yet  unable  to  cast  aside  utterly  the  image  of  inno- 
cence and  goodness  which  the  Apostle  had  set  before  them. 
There  were  those,  again,  who  consciously  sought  to  lead  the 
double  life,  and  imagined  themselves  to  have  found  in  Hcen 
tiousness  the  true  freedom  of  the  Gospel. 

The  tone  which  the  Apostle  adopts  respecting  sins  of  the 
flesh  differs  in  many  ways  from  the  manner  of  speaking  of 
them  among  moralists  of  modern  times.  He  says  nothing  of 
the  poison  which  they  infuse  into  society,  or  the  consequences 
to  the  individual  himself.  It  is  not  in  this  way  that  moral 
evils  are  presented  to  us  in  Scripture.  Neither  does  he 
appeal  to  public  opinion  as  condemning  them,  or  dwell  on  the 
ruin  involved  in  them  to  one  half  of  the  human  race.  True 
and  forcible  as  these  aspects  of  such  sins  are,  they  are  the 
result  of  modern  reflection,  not  the  first  instincts  of  reason 
and  conscience.  They  strengthen  the  moral  principles  of 
mankind,  but  are  not  of  a  kind  to  touch  the  individual  souk 
They  are  a  good  defence  for  the  existing  order  of  society ; 
but  they  will  not  purify  the  nature  of  man,  or  extinguish  the 
flames  of  lust. 

Moral  evils  in  the  New  Testament  are  always  spoken  of  as 
spiritual.  They  corrupt  the  soul ;  they  defile  the  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  they  cut  men  off  from  the  body  of  Christ. 
Of  morality,  as  distinct  from  religion,  there  is  hardly  a  trace 
in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.  What  he  seeks  to  penetrate  is 
the  inward  nature  of  sin,  not  its  outward  effects.  Even  its 
consequences  in  another  state  of  being  are  but  slightly  touched 
upon,  in  comparison  with  that  living  death  which  itself  is.  It 
is  not  merely  a  vice  or  crime,  or  even  an  offence  against  the 
law  of  God,  to  be  punished  here  or  hereafter.  It  is  more 
than  this.  It  is  what  men  feel  within,  not  what  they  observe 
without  tlieoQ, — not  what  shall  be,  but  what  is,  —  a  terrible 


EVILS    IN   THE   APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH.  385 

consciousness,  a  mystery  of  iniquity,  a  communion  with  un- 
seen powers  of  evil. 

All  sin  is  spoken  of  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  as  rooted 
in  human  nature,  and  quickened  by  the  consciousness  of  law  ; 
but  especially  is  this  the  case  with  the  sin  which  is  more  than 
any  other  the  type  of  sin  in  general,  —  fornication.  It  is,  in  a 
peculiar  sense,  the  sin  of  the  flesh,  with  which  the  very  idea 
of  the  corruption  of  the  flesh  is  closely  connected,  just  as,  in 
1  Thess.  iv.  3,  the  idea  of  holiness  is  regarded  as  almost 
equivalent  to  abstinence  from  the  commission  of  it.  It  is  a 
sin  against  a  man's  own  body,  distinguished  from  all  other 
sins  by  its  personal  and  individual  nature.  No  other  is  at  the 
same  time  so  gross  and  so  insidious ;  no  other  partakes  so 
much  of  the  slavery  of  sin.  As  marriage  is  the  type  of  the 
communion  of  Christ  and  his  Church,  as  the  body  is  the 
member  of  Christ,  so  the  sin  of  fornication  is  a  strange  and 
mysterious  union  with  evil. 

But  although  such  is  the  tone  of  the  Apostle,  there  is  no 
violence  to  human  nature  in  his  commands  respecting  it.  He 
knew  how  easily  extremes  meet,  how  hard  it  is  for  asceticism 
to  make  clean  that  which  is  within,  how  quickly  it  might  itself 
pass  into  its  opposite.  Nothing  can  be  more  different  from 
the  spirit  of  early  ecclesiastical  history  on  this  subject,  than 
the  moderation  of  St.  Paul.  The  remedy  for  sin  is  not  celi- 
bacy, but  marriage.  Even  second  marriages  are,  for  the 
prevention  of  sin,  to  be  encouraged.  In  the  same  spirit  is  his 
treatment  of  the  incestuous  person.  He  had  committed  a  sin 
not  even  named  among  the  Gentiles,  for  which  he  was  to  be 
delivered  unto  Satan,  for  which  all  the  Church  should  humble 
themselves ;  yet  upon  his  true  repentance,  no  ban  is  to  sepa- 
rate him  from  the  rest  of  the  brethren,  no  doom  of  endless 
penance  is  recorded  against  him.  Whatever  might  have 
been  the  enormity  of  his  offence,  he  was  to  be  forgiven,  as  in 
heaven,  so  on  earth. 

The  manner  in  which  the  Corinthian  church  are  described 
as  regarding  this  offence,  before  the  Apostle's  rebuke  to  them, 
no  less  than  the  lenient  sentence  of  the  Apostle  himself  after- 
33 


586  EVILS    IN    TKE    APOSTOLICAL    CHUIlCll. 

wards,  as  well  as  his  constant  admonitions  on  the  same  sub- 
ject in  all  his  Epistles,  must  be  regarded  as  indications  of  the 
state  of  morality  among  the  first  converts.  Above  all  other 
things,  the  Apostle  insisted  on  purity  as  the  first  note  of  the 
Christian  character ;  and  yet  the  very  earnestness  and  fre- 
quency of  his  warnings  show  that  he  is  speaking,  not  of  a  sin 
hardly  named  among  saints,  but  of  one  the  victory  over  which 
was  the  greatest  and  most  difficult  triumph  of  the  cross  of 
Christ. 

2.  It  is  hard  to  resist  the  impression  which  naturally  arises 
in  our  minds,  that  the  early  Church  was  without  spot,  or 
wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing ;  as  it  were,  a  bride  adorned  for 
her  husband,  the  type  of  Christian  purity,  the  model  of  Apos- 
tolical order.  The  real  image  is  marred  with  human  frailty ; 
its  evils,  perhaps,  arising  more  from  this  cause  than  any  other, 
that  in  its  commencement  it  was  a  kingdom  not  of  this  world ; 
in  other  words,  it  had  no  political  existence  or  legal  support ; 
hence  there  is  no  evil  more  frequently  referred  to  in  the 
Epistles  than  disorder. 

This  spirit  of  disorder  was  manifested  in  various  ways.  In 
the  church  of  Corinth  the  communion  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
was  administered  so  as  to  be  a  scandal ;  "  one  was  hungry, 
and  another  was  drunken."  There  was  as  yet  no  rite  or 
custom  to  which  all  confonned.  In  the  same  church  the 
spiritual  gifts  were  manifested  without  rule  or  order.  It 
seemed  as  if  God  was  not  the  author  of  peace,  but  of  confu- 
sion. All  spoke  together,  men  and  women,  apparently  with- 
out distinction,  singing,  praying,  teaching,  uttering  words 
unintelligible  to  the  rest,  with  no  regular  succession  .or  subor- 
dination (1  Cor.  xiv.).  The  scene  in  their  assemblies  was 
such,  that  if  an  unbeliever  had  come  in,  he  would  have  said 
they  were  mad. 

Evils  of  this  kind  in  a  great  measure  arose  from  the  ab- 
sence of  church  authority.  Even  the  Apostle  himself  per- 
suades more  often  than  commands,  and  often  uses  language 
which  implies  a  sort  of  hesitation  whether  his  rule  would  be 
acknowledged  or  noU    The  diverse  offices,  the  figure  of  the 


EVILS    IN    THE    APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH.  387 

members  and  the  body,  do  not  refer  to  what  was,  but  to  what 
ought  to  be,  to  an  ideal  of  harmonious  life  and  action,  which 
the  Apostle  holds  up  before  them,  which  in  practice  was  far 
from  being  realized.  The  Church  was  not  organized,  but  was 
in  process  of  organization.  Its  only  punishment  was  excom- 
munication, which,  as  in  modern  so  in  primitive  times,  could 
not  l»e  enforced  against  the  wishes  of  the  majority.  In  two 
cafiss  only  are  members  of  the  Church  "  delivered  unto  Satan  " 
(1  Cor^  V.  5  ;  1  Tim.  i.  20).  It  was  a  moral  and  spiritual, 
not  a  legal  control,  that  was  exercised.  Hence  the  frequent 
admonitions  given,  doubtless  because  they  were  needed : 
"  Obey  them  that  have  the  rule  over  you." 

A  second  kind  of  disorder  arose  from  unsettlement  of  mind. 
Of  such  unsettlement  we  find  traces  in  the  levity  and  vanity 
of  the  Corinthians ;  in  the  fickleness  with  which  the  Gala- 
tians  left  St.  Paul  for  the  false  teachers  ;  almost  (may  we  not 
say  ?)  in  the  very  passion  with  which  the  Apostle  addresses 
them  ;  above  all,  in  the  case  of  the  Thessalonians.  How  few 
among  all  the  converts  were  there  capable  of  truly  discern- 
ing their  relation  to  the  world  around  !  or  of  supporting  them- 
selves alone  when  the  fervor  of  conversion  had  passed  away, 
and  the  Apostle  was  no  longer  present  with  them  !  They  had 
entered  into  a  state  so  different  from  that  of  their  fellow- 
men,  that  it  might  well  be  termed  supernatural.  The  ordi- 
nary experience  of  men  was  no  longer  their  guide.  They  left 
their  daily  employments.  The  great  change  which  they  felt 
within  seemed  to  extend  itself  without,  and  involve  the  world 
in  its  shadow.  So  "  palpable  to  sense  "  was  the  vision  of 
Christ's  coming  again,  that  their  only  fear  or  doubt  was  how 
the  departed  would  have  a  share  in  it.  No  religious  belief 
could  be  more  unsettling  than  this  :  that  to-day,  or  to-morrow, 
or  the  third  day,  before  the  sun  set  or  the  dawn  arose,  the 
sign  of  the  Son  of  Man  might  appear  in  the  clouds  of  heaven. 
It  was  not  possible  to  take  thought  for  the  morrow,  to  study 
to  be  (^uiet  and  get  their  own  living,  when  men  hardly  ex- 
pected the  morrow.  Death  comes  to  individuals  now,  as 
nature  prepares  them  for  it ;  but  the  immediate  expectation 


388  EVILS    IN    THE    APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH 

of  Christ's  coming  is  out  of  tlie  course  of  nature.  Young 
and  old  alike  look  for  it.  It  is  a  resurrection  of  the  world 
itself,  and  implies  a  corresponding  revolution  in  the  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  purposes  of  men. 

A  third  kind  of  disorder  may  have  arisen  from  the  same 
causes,  but  seems  to  have  assumed  another  character.  As 
among  the  Jews,  so  among  the  first  Christians,  there  were 
those  who  needed  to  be  perpetually  reminded,  that  the  powers 
that  be  were  ordained  of  God.  The  heathen  converts  could 
not  at  once  lay  aside  the  licentiousness  of  manners  amid 
which  they  had  been  brought  up  ;  no  more  could  the  Jew- 
ish converts  give  up  their  aspirations,  that  at  this  time  "  the 
kingdom  was  to  be  restored  to  Israel,"  which  had  perhaps 
been  in  some  cases  their  first  attraction  to  the  Gospel.  A 
community  springing  up  in  Palestine  under  the  dominion 
of  the  Romans,  could  not  be  expected  exactly  to  draw  the 
line  between  the  things  that  were  Caesar's  and  the  things 
that  were  God's,  or  to  understand  in  what  sense  "  the  chil- 
dren were  free,"  in  what  sense  it  was  nevertheless  their 
duty  to  pay  tribute.  The  frequent  exhortations  to  obey 
magistrates,  are  a  proof  at  once  of  the  tendency  to  rebellion, 
and  of  the  energy  with  which  the  Apostles  set  themselves 
against  it. 

3.  The  third  head  of  our  inquiry  related  to  scruples  of 
conscience,  which  were  chiefly  of  two  kinds  ;  regai-ding  either 
the  observan(;e  of  days,  or  the  eating  with  the  uncleim  or  unbe- 
lievers. Were  they,  or  were  they  not,  to  observe  the  Jewish 
Sabbath,  or  new  moon,  or  passover  ?  Such  questions  as  these 
are  not  to  be  considered  the  fancies  or  opinions  of  individuals; 
but,  as  mankind  are  quick  enough  to  discover,  involve  general 
principles,  and  are  but  the  outward  signs  of  some  deep  and 
radical  difference.  In  the  question  of  the  observance  ot 
Jewish  feasts,  and  still  more  in  the  question  of  going  in  unto 
men  uncircumcised  and  eating  with  them,  was  implied  the 
whole  question  of  the  relation  of  the  disciple  of  Christ  to  the 
Jew,  just  as  the  question  of  sitting  at  meat  in  the  idol's  tem- 
ple was  the  question  of  the  relation  of  the  disciple  of  Christ 


EVILS    IN   THE    APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH.  389 

to  the  Gentile.  Was  the  Christian  to  preserve  his  caste,  and 
remain  within  the  pale  of  Judaism  ?  Was  he  in  his  daily  life 
to  carry  his  religious  scruples  so  far  as  to  exclude  himself 
from  the  social  life  of  the  heathen  world  ?  How  much  pru- 
dence and  liberty  and  charity  was  necessary  for  the  solution 
of  such  difficulties  ? 

Freedom  is  the  key-note  of  the  Gospel,  as  preached  by  St. 
Paul.  *'  All  things  are  lawful."  "  There  is  no  distinction  of 
Jew  or  Greek,  barbarian  or  Scythian,  bond  or  free."  "  Let 
no  man  judge  you  of  a  new  moon  or  a  Sabbath."  "  Where 
the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty."  And  yet,  if  we  go 
back  to  its  origin,  the  Christian  Church  was  born  into  the 
world  marked  and  diversified  with  the  features  of  the  relig- 
ions that  had  preceded  it,  bound  within  the  curtains  of  the 
tabernacle,  colored  with  Oriental  opinions  that  refused  to  be 
washed  out  of  the  minds  of  men.  The  scruples  of  individuals 
are  but  indications  of  the  elements  out  of  which  the  Cliurch 
was  composed.  There  were  narrow  paths  in  which  men 
walked,  customs  which  clung  to  them  long  after  the  reason  of 
them  had  ceased,  observances  which  they  were  unable  to 
give  up,  though  conscience  and  reason  alike  disowned  them, 
which  were  based  on  the  traditions  of  half  the  world,  and 
could  not  be  relinquished,  however  alien  to  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel.  Slowly  and  gradually,  as  Christianity  itself  became 
more  spread,  these  remnants  of  Judaism  or  Orientalism  dis- 
appeared, and  the  spirit  which  had  been  taught  from  the 
beginning,  made  itself  felt  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  in  the 
institutions  of  the  Church. 

4.  The  heresies  of  the  Apostolical  age  are  a  subject  too 
wide  for  illustration  in  a  note.  We  shall  attempt  no  more 
than  to  bring  together  the  names  and  heads  of  opinion  which 
occur  in  Scripture,  with  the  view  of  completing  the  preced- 
ing sketch. 

There  was  the  party  of  Peter  and  of  Paul,  of  the  circum- 
cision and  of  the  uncircumcision.  There  were  t'aose  who 
knew  Christ  according  to  the  flesh  ;  those  who,  like  St.  Paul, 
knew  him  only  as  revealed  within.  There  were  others  who, 
33* 


890  EVILS    IN   THE    APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH. 

after  casting  aside  circumcision,  were  still  struggling  between 
the  old  dispensation  and  the  new.  There  were  those  who 
never  went  beyond  the  baptism  of  John  ;  others,  again,  to 
whom  the  Gospel  of  Christ  clothed  itself  in  Alexandrian 
language.  There  were  prophets,  speakers  with  tongues,  dis- 
cemers  of  spirits,  interpreters  of  tongues.  There  were  those 
who  looked  daily  for  the  coming  of  Christ ;  others  who  said 
that  the  Resurrection  was  passed  already.  There  were  seek- 
ers after  knowledge,  falsely  so  called ;  worshippers  of  angels, 
intruders  into  things  they  had  not  seen.  There  were  those 
who  maintained  an  Oriental  asceticism  in  their  lives,  "  forbid- 
ding to  marry,  commanding  to  abstain  from  meats."  There 
was  the  doctrine  of  the  Nicolaitans,  the  synagogue  of  Satan, 
who  "  said  that  they  were  Jews  and  are  not,"  "  the  woman 
Jezebel,  which  calleth  herself  a  prophetess."  There  were 
wild  heretics,  "  many  Antichrists,"  "  grievous  wolves,  enter- 
ing into  the  fold,"  apostasy  of  whole  churches  at  once.  There 
were  mingled  anarchy  and  licentiousness,  "filthy  dreamei*s, 
despising  dominion,  speaking  evil  of  dignities,"  of  whom  no 
language  is  too  strong  for  St.  Paul  or  St.  John  to  use,  though 
they  seem  to  have  been  separated  by  no  definite  line  from  the 
Church  itself.  There  were  fainter  contrasts,  too,  of  those 
who  agreed  in  the  unity  of  the  same  spirit,  aspects  and  points 
of  view,  as  we  term  them,  of  faith  and  works,  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  and  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 

How  this  outline  is  to  be  filled  up  must  for  ever  remain,  in 
a  great  degree,  matter  of  speculation.  Yet  there  is  not  a 
single  trait  here  mentioned,  which  does  not  reappear  in  the 
second  century,  either  within  the  Church  or  without  it,  more 
or  less  prominent  as  favored  by  circumstances  or  the  reverse. 
The  beginning  of  Ebionitism,  Sabaism,  Gnosticism,  Mon- 
tanism,  Alexandrianism,  Orientalism,  and  of  the  wild  licen- 
tiousness which  marked  the  course  of  sevend  of  them,  are 
all  discernible  in  the  Apostolical  age.  They  would  be  more 
correctly  regarded,  not  as  offshoots  of  Christianity,  but  as  the 
soil  in  which  it  arose.  Some  of  them  seem  to  acquire  a  tem- 
poraiy  principle  of  life,  and  to  grow  up  parallel  with  the 


EVILS   IN    THE   APOSTOLICAL    CHURCH.  891 

Church  itself.  As  opinions  and  tendencies  of  the  human 
mind,  many  linger  among  us  to  the  present  day.  Only  after 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  with  the  spread  of  the  Gospel 
over  the  world,  as  the  spirit  of  the  East  moves  towards  the 
West,  Judaism  fades  and  dies  away,  to  rise  again,  as  some 
hold,  in  the  glorified  form  of  a  mediaeval  Church. 

Such  is  the  reverse  side  of  the  picture  of  the  Apostolical 
age ;  what  proportions  we  should  give  to  each  feature  it  is 
impossible  to  determine.  We  need  not  infer  that  all  churches 
were  in  the  same  disorder  as  Corinth  and  Galatia ;  nor  can 
we  say  how  far  the  more  flagrant  evils  were  tamely  submitted 
to  by  the  Church  itself.  There  was  much  of  good  that  we 
can  never  know  ;  much  also  of  evil.  And  perhaps  the  gen- 
eral lesson  which  we  gather  from  the  preceding  considera- 
tions is,  not  that  the  state  of  the  primitive  Church  was  better 
or  worse  than  our  first  thoughts  would  have  suggested,  but 
that  its  state  was  one  in  which  good  and  evil  exercised  a  more 
vital  power,  were  more  subtly  intermingled  with,  and  more 
easily  passed  into,  each  other.  All  things  were  coming  to  the 
birth,  some  in  one  way,  some  in  another.  The  supports  of 
custom,  of  opinion,  of  tradition,  had  given  way ;  human  na- 
ture was,  as  it  were,  thrown  upon  itself  and  the  guidance  of 
the  spirit  of  God.  There  were  as  many  diversities  of  human 
character  in  the  world  then  as  now ;  more  strange  influences 
of  religion  and  race  than  have  ever  since  met  in  one ;  a  far 
greater  yearning  of  the  human  intellect  to  solve  the  problems 
of  existence.  There  was  no  settled  principle  of  morality 
independent  of  and  above  religious  convictions.  All  these 
causes  are  sufficient  to  account  for  the  diversities  of  opinion 
or  practice,  as  well  as  for  the  extremes  vrhich  met  in  the 
bosom  of  the  primitive  Church. 


ON  THE  BELIEF  IN  THE  COMING  OF  CHRIST 
IN  THE  APOSTOLICAL  AGE. 

Br    BENJAMIN   JOWETT. 


The  belief  in  the  near  approach  of  the  coming  of  Christ  is 
spoken  of,  or  implied,  in  almost  every  book  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, in  the  discourses  of  our  Lord  himself  as  well  as  in 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  no  less 
than  in  the  Book  of  the  Revelation.  The  remains  of  such  a 
belief  are  discernible  in  the  Montanism  of  the  second  century, 
which  is  separated  by  a  scarcely  definable  line  from  the 
Church  itself  Nor  is  there  wanting  in  our  own  day  a  dim 
and  meagre  shadow  of  the  same  primitive  faith,  though  the 
world  appears  dead  to  it,  and  all  things  remain  the  same  as  at 
the  beginning.  There  are  still  those  who  argue  from  the  very 
lapse  of  time,  that  "  now  is  their  salvation  nearer  than  when 
they  believed."  All  religious  men  ha^  at  times  blended  in 
their  thoughts  earth  and  heaven,  while  there  are  some  who 
have  raised  their  passing  feelings  into  doctrinal  truth,  and 
have  seemed  to  see  in  the  temporary  state  of  the  first  con- 
verts the  type  of  Christian  life  in  all  ages. 

The  great  influence  which  this  belief  exercised  on  the 
beginnings  of  the  Church,  and  the  degree  of  influence  which 
it  still  retains,  render  the  consideration  of  it  necessary  for  the 
right  understanding  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles.  Yet  it  is  a  sub- 
ject from  which  the  interpreter  of  Scripture  would  gladly 
turn  aside.  For  it  seems  as  if  he  were  compelled  to  say  at 
the  outset,  "  that  St.  Paul  was  mistaken,  and  that  in  support 


394  BELIEF    IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST. 

of  his  mistake  he  could  appeal  to  the  words  of  Christ  himself." 
Nothing  can  be  plainer  than  the  meaning  of  those  words,  and 
yet  they  seem  to  be  contradicted  by  the  very  fact  that,  after 
eighteen  centuries,  the  world  is  as  it  was.  In  the  words 
which  are  attributed,  in  the  Epistle  of  St,  Peter,  to  the  unbe- 
lievers of  that  day,  we  might  truly  say  that,  since  the  fathers 
have  fallen  asleep,  all  things  remain  the  same  from. the  be- 
ginning. Not  only  do  "  all  things  remain  the  same,"  but  the 
very  belief  itself  (in  the  sense  in  which  it  was  held  by  the 
first  Christians)  has  been  ready  to  vanish  away. 

Why,  then,  were  the  traces  of  such  a  belief  permitted  to 
appear  in  the  New  Testament  ?  Some  will  say,  "  As  a  trial 
of  our  faith  " ;  others  will  have  recourse  to  the  double  senses 
of  prophecy,  to  divide  the  past  from  the  future,  the  seen  from 
the  unseen.  Others  will  cite  its  existence  as  a  proof  that  the 
books  of  Scripture  were  compiled  at  a  time  when  such  a  belief 
was  still  living,  and  this  not  without,  but  within,  the  circle  of 
the  Church  itself.  It  may  be  also  regarded  as  an  indication 
that  we  were  not  intended  to  interpret  Scripture  apart  from 
the  light  of  experience,  or  violently  to  bend  life  and  truth 
into  agreement  with  isolated  texts.  Lastly,  so  far  as  we  can 
venture  to  move  such  a  question  of  our  Lord  himself,  we  may 
observe  that  his  teaching  here,  as  in  other  places,  is  on  a  level 
with  the  modes  of  thought  of  his  age,  clothed  in  figures,  as  it 
must  necessarily  be,  to  express  "  the  things  that  eye  hath  not 
seen,"  limited  by  tim^  as  if  to  give  the  sense  of  reality  to 
what  otherwise  would  be  vague  and  infinite,  yet  mysterious  in 
this  respect  too,  for  of  "  that  hour  knoweth  no  man " ;  and 
that  however  these  figures  of  speech  are  explained,  or  these 
opposite  aspects  reconciled,  their  meaning  dimly  seen  has 
been  the  stay  and  hope  of  the  believer  in  all  ages,  who  knows, 
nevertheless,  that  since  the  Apostles  have  passed  away,  all 
things  remain  tlie  same  from  the  beginning,  and  that  "  the 
round  world  is  set  so  fast  that  it  cannot  be  moved." 

The  surprise  tlmt  wc  naturally  feel,  when  the  attention  is 
first  called  to  this  singular  discrepancy  between  faith  and  ex- 
perience, is  greatly  lessened  by  our  observing  that  even  the 


BELIEF   IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST.  395 

language  of  Scripture  is  not  free  from  inconsistency.  For  the 
words  of  our  Lord  himself  are  not  more  in  apparent  contra- 
diction with  the  course  of  experience,  than  they  are  with 
other  words  which  are  equally  attributed  to  him  by  the  Evan- 
gelists. He  who  says,  "  This  generation  shall  not  pass  away 
until  all  these  things  be  fulfilled,"  is  the  same  as  he  who  tells 
his  disciples,  "  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  the  times  and  the 
seasons  which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own  power,"  and 
"  Of  that  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the  angels  of  God,  nor 
the  Son,  but  the  Father."  Is  it  reverent,  or  irreverent,  to 
say  that  Christ  knew  what  he  himself  declares  "  that  he  did 
not  know  "  ?  Is  it  consistent,  or  inconsistent,  with  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Gospels,  that  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  should  at  first 
have  known  no  more  than  our  Lord  had  taught  his  disciples  r 
or  that  in  the  course  of  years  only  he  should  have  grown  up 
to  another  and  a  higher  truth,  that  "  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ  was  far  better  "  ?  Is  it  strange  that,  from  time  to  time, 
he  should  change  his  tone,  seeming  by  this  very  change  to  say 
"  Whether  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body,  I  cannot  tell " ; 
when  our  Lord  himself  at  one  time  speaks  of  "  Jerusalem 
being  encompassed  by  armies  " ;  at  another,  gives  no  answer 
to  the  question,  "  Where,  Lord  ?  "  but,  "  Where  the  carcass  is, 
there  will  the  eagles  be  gathered  together "  ?  Our  concep- 
tion, both  of  place  and  time,  becomes  indistinct  as  we  enter 
into  the  unseen  world.  And  does  not  the  Scripture  itself 
acknowledge  these  necessary  limits  of  its  own  revelation  to 
man? 

But  instead  of  regarding  this  or  any  other  fact  of  Scripture 
as  a  difficulty  to  be  explained  away,  it  will  be  more  instruc- 
tive for  us  to  consider  the  nature  of  the  belief,  and  its  prob- 
able effect  on  the  infant  communion.  Strictly  speaking,  the 
expectation  of  the  day  of  the  Lord  was  not  a  belief,  but  a 
necessity,  in  the  early  Church ;  clinging,  as  it  did,  to  the 
thought  of  Christ,  it  could  not  bear  to  be  separated  from  him: 
it  was  his  absence,  not  his  presence,  that  the  first  believers 
found  it  hard  to  realize.  "  Yet  a  Kttle  while,  and  they  did 
not  see  him  ;  but  yet  a  little  while,  and  they  would  again  see 


396  BELIEF   IN    THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST. 

him."  Nor  was  it  possible  for  them  at  once  to  lay  aside  the 
material  images  in  which  the  faith  of  prophets  and  psalmists 
had  clothed  the  day  of  the  Lord.  We  readily  admit  that 
they  Hngered  around  "  the  elements  of  the  law  "  ;  but  we  must 
admit  also  that  the  imagery  of  the  prophets  had  a  reality  and 
fact  to  them  which  it  has  not  to  us,  who  arc  taught  by  time 
itself  that  all  these  things  "  are  a  shadow,  but  the  substance  is 
of  Christ" 

We  naturally  ask,  Why  a  future  life,  as  distinct  from  this, 
was  not  made  a  part  of  the  first  preaching  of  the  Gospel  ? 
Why,  in  other  words,  the  faith  of  the  first  Christians  did  not 
exactly  coincide  with  our  own  ?  There  are  many  ways  in 
which  the  answer  to  this  question  may  be  expressed.  The 
philosopher  will  say  that  the  difference  in  the  modes  of 
thought  of  that  age  and  our  own,  rendered  it  impossible,  hu- 
manly speaking,  that  the  veil  of  sense  should  be  altogether 
removed.  The  theologian  will  admit  that  Providence  does 
not  teach  men  that  which  they  can  teach  themselves.  While 
there  are  lessons  which  it  immediately  communicates,  there  is 
much  which  it  leaves  to  be  drawn  forth  by  time  and  events. 
Experience  may  of\en  enlarge  faith,  it  may  also  correct  it. 
No  one  can  doubt  that  the  faith  and  practice  of  the  early 
Church,  respecting  the  admission  of  the  Gentiles,  were  greatly 
altered  by  the  fact  that  the  Gentiles  themselves  flocked  in ; 
**  The  kingdom  of  heaven  suffered  violence,  and  the  violent 
took  it  by  force."  In  like  manner,  the  faith  respecting  the 
coming  of  Christ  was  modified  by  the  continuance  of  the  world 
itself.  Common  sense  suggests,  that  those  who  were  in  the 
first  ecstasy  of  conversion,  and  those  who  after  the  lapse  of 
years  saw  the  world  unchanged,  and  the  fabric  of  the  Church 
on  earth  rising  around  them,  could  not  regard  the  day  of  the 
Lord  with  the  same  feelings.  "While  to  the  one  it  seemed 
near  and  present,  at  any  moment  ready  to  burst  forth,  to  the 
other  it  was  a  long  way  off,  separated  by  time,  and  as  it  were 
by  place,  a  world  beyord  the  stars,  yet,  strangely  enough, 
also  having  its  dwelling  in  the  heart  of  man,  as  it  were  the 
atmosphere  in  which  he  lived,  the  mental  world  by  which  he 


BELIEF   IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST.  397 

was  surrounded.  Not  at  once,  but  gradually,  did  the  cloud 
clear  up,  and  the  one  mode  of  faith  take  the  place  of  the  other. 
Apart  from  the  prophets,  though  then,  beyond  them,  spring- 
ing up  in  a  new  and  living  way  in  the  soul  of  man,  corrected 
by  long  experience,  as  the  "  fathers  one  by  one  fell  asleep," 
as  the  hope  of  the  Jewish  race  declined,  as  ecstatic  gifts 
ceased,  as  a  regular  hierarchy  was  established  in.  the  Church, 
the  belief  in  the  coming  of  Christ  was  transformed  from  being 
outward  to  becoming  inward,  from  being  national  to  becom- 
ing individual  and  universal,  from  being  Jewish  to  becoming 
Christian. 

It  must  be  admitted  as  a  fact,  that  the  earliest  Christians 
spoke  and  thought  about  the  coming  of  Christ  in  a  way  differ- 
ent from  that  which  prevails  among  ourselves.  Admitting  this 
fact,  we  have  now  to  consider  some  of  the  many  aspects  of 
this  belief,  and  its  effect  on  the  lives  of  believers.  It  is  hard 
for  us  to  define  its  exact  character,  because  it  is  hard  to  con- 
ceive a  state  of  the  Church,  and  of  the  human  mind  its^  If, 
unlike  our  own.  In  its  origin  it  was  simple  and  childlikp,  the 
belief  of  men  who  saw  but  a  little  way  into  the  purposes  of 
Providence,  who  never  dreamed  of  a  vista  of  futurity.  It  was 
not  what  we  should  term  an  article  of  faith,  but  natural  and 
necessary ;  flowing  immediately  out  of  the  life  and  state  of 
the  earliest  believers.  It  was  the  feeling  of  men  who  looked 
for  the  coming  of  Christ  as  we  might  look  for  the  return  of  a 
lost  friend,  many  of  whom  had  seen  him  on  earth,  and  could 
not  beheve  that  he  was  taken  from  them  for  ever.  But  it  was 
more  than  this  ;  it  was  the  feeling  of  men  who  had  an  intense 
sense  of  the  change  that  had  been  wrought  in  themselves,  and 
to  whom  this  change  seemed  like  the  beginning  of  a  greater 
change  that  was  to  spread  itself  over  the  world.  It  was  the 
feeling  of  men  who  looked  back  upon  the  past,  of  which  they 
knew  so  little,  and  discerned  in  it  the  workings  of  the  same 
spirit,  one  and  continuous,  which  they  felt  in  their  own  souls  ; 
to  whom  the  world  within  and  the  world  withc>ut  were  reflect- 
ed upon  one  another,  and  the  history  of  the  J  ewish  race  was 
a  parable,  an  "  open  secret "  of  the  things  to  come.  It  was 
34 


398  BELIEF    IN    THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST. 

the  feeling  of  men,  each  moment  of  whose  lives  was  the  meet- 
ing-point to  them  of  heaven  and  earth,  who  scarcely  thought 
either  of  the  past  or  future  in  the  eternity  of  the  present 

Let  those  who  think  this  is  an  imaginary  picture  recall  to 
mind,  and  compare  with  Scripture,  either  what  they  may  have 
read  in  books  or  experienced  in  themselves,  as  the  workings 
of  a  mind  suddenly  converted  to  the  Gospel.  Such  an  one 
s^fems  to  lose  his  measure  of  events,  and  his  true  relation  to 
the  world.  While  other  men  are  going  on  with  their  daily 
occupations,  he  only  is  out  of  sympathy  with  nature,  and  has 
fears  and  joys  in  himself,  which  he  can  neither  communicate 
nor  explain  to  his  fellows.  It  is  not  that  he  is  thinking  of 
the  endless  ages  in  which  he  will  partake  of  heavenly  bliss  ; 
rather  the  present  consciousness  of  sin,  or  the  preseirt  sense 
of  forgiveness  and  of  peace  in  Christ,  is  already  a  sort  of 
hell  or  heaven  within  him,  which  excludes  the  future.  It  is 
not  that  he  has  an  increased  insifijht  into  the  oriofinal  meaning 
of  Scripture ;  rather  he  seems  to  absorb  Scripture  into  him- 
self. Least  of  all  have  persons  in  such  a  state  of  mind  dis- 
tinct or  accurate  conceptions  of  the  woi'ld  to  come.  The 
images  in  which  they  express  themselves  are  carnal  and 
visible,  often  inconsistent  with  each  other,  if  they  are  unedu- 
cated, wanting  in  good  taste,  yet  not  the  less  the  realization 
to  them  of  a  true  and  lively  faith.  Tiie  last  thing  that  they 
desire,  or  could  comprehend,  is  an  intellectual  theory  of  an- 
other life.  They  seem  hardly  to  need  either  statements  of 
doctrine  or  the  religious  ministration  of  others  ;  their  concern 
is  with  God  only. 

Substitute  now  for  an  individual  a  church,  a  nation,  the 
three  thousand  who  were  converted  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
the  multitudes  of  Jews  that  believed,  zealous  for  the  law ; 
imagine  them  changed  at  the  same  instant  by  one  spirit,  and 
we  seem  to  see  on  a  larger  scale  the  same  effects  following. 
Tlieir  conversion  is  an  exception  to  the  course  of  nature ; 
itself  a  revelation  and  inspinitron,  a  wonder  of  which  they  can 
give  no  account  to  themselves  or  othei*s,  not  the  least  wonder- 
ful part  of  which  is  their  communion  with  one  another.    They 


BELIEF    IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST.  399 

come  into  existence  as  a  society,  with  common  hopes  and 
fears,  at  one  with  each  other,  separated  from  mankind  at 
large.  What  they. feel  within  spreads  itself  over  the  world. 
The  good  and  evil  that  they  are  conscious  of  in  themselves, 
seem  to  exist  without  them  in  aggravated  proportions  ;  a  fel- 
lowship of  the  saints  on  one  side,  and  a  mystery  of  iniquity 
on  the  other.  They  do  not  read  history,  or  comprehend  the 
sort  of  imperfect  necessity  under  which  men  act  as  creatures 
of  their  age.  The  same  guilt  which  they  acknowledge  in 
themselves  they  attach  to  other  men ;  the  same  judgment 
which  would  await  them  is  awaiting  the  world  everywhere. 
In  the  events  around  them,  in  their  own  sufferings,  in  their 
daily  life,  they  see  the  preparations  for  the  great  conflict  be- 
tween good  and  evil;  between  Christ  and  Behal,  if,  indeed, 
it  be  not  already  begun.  The  circle  of  their  own  life  in- 
cludes in  it  the  destinies  of  the  human  race  itself,  of  which  it 
is,  as  it  were,  the  microcosm,  seen  by  the  eye  of  faith  and  the 
light  of  inward  experience.  This  is  what  the  law  and  the 
prophets  seemed  to  them  to  have  meant  when  they  spoke  of 
God's  judgments  on  his  enemies,  of  the  Lord  coming  with  ten 
thousand  of  his  saints.  And  the  signs  which  were  to  accom- 
pany these  things  were  already  seen  among  them,  "  not  in 
word  only,  but  in  power,  and  in  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  in  much 
assurance." 

To  us  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  is  a  new  beginning, 
from  which  we  date  all  things,  beyond  which  we  neither  desire 
nor  are  able  to  inquire.  To  the  first  believers  it  was  other- 
wise ;  not  the  beginning  of  a  new  world,  but  the  end  of  a 
former  one.  They  looked  back  to  the  past,  because  the  veil 
of  the  future  was  not  yet  lifted  up.  They  were  living  in  "  the 
latter  days,"  the  confluence  of  all  times,  the  meeting-point  of 
the  purposes  of  God.  They  read  all  things  in  the  light  of  the 
approaching  end  of  the  world.  They  were  not  taught,  and 
could  not  have  imagined,  that  for  eighteen  centuries  servants 
of  God  should  continue  on  the'  earth,  waiting,  like  themselves, 
for  the  promise  of  his  coming.  Th^y  were  not  taught,  and 
could  not  have  imagined,  that  after  three  centuries  the  Church 


400  BELIEF    IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST. 

which  they  saw  poverty-stricken  and  persecuted  should  be  the 
mistress  of  the  earth,  and  that,  in  another  sense  than  they 
liad  hoped,  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  should  become  the 
kingdoms  of  the  Lord  and  of  his  Christ,  Instead  of  it,  they 
beheld  in  a  figure  the  heavens  opening,  and  the  angels  of  God 
ascending  and  descending;  the  present  outpouring  of  the 
Spirit,  and  the  evil  and  perplexity  of  the  world  itself,  being 
the  earnest  of  the  things  which  were  shortly  to  come  to  ptuss. 
It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  the  belief  in  the  coming 
of  Christ  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  the  Apostolic  Church 
that  the  expectation  of  death  does  to  ourselves.  Certainly 
the  absence  of  exhortations  based  upon  the  shortness  of  life, 
which  are  not  unfrequent  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  are  so 
familiar  to  our  own  day,  forms  a  remarkable  feature  in  the 
writings  of  the  New  Testament,  and  in  a  measure  seems  to 
confirm  such  an  opinion.  And  yet  the  similarity  is  rather 
apparent  than  real ;  or,  at  any  rate,  the  diiference  between 
the  two  is  not  less  remarkable.  For  the  feeble  apprehension 
which  each  man  entertains  of  his  own  mortality  can  bear  no 
comparison  with  that  living  sense  of  the  day  of  the  Lord 
which  was  the  habitual  thought  of  the  first  Christians,  which 
was  not  so  much  a  "  coming  "  as  a  "  presence  "  to  them,  as  its 
very  name  implied  (irapovaia).  How  different  also  was  the 
event  looked  for,  no  less  than  the  anticipation  of  it !  There 
is  nothing  terrible  in  death  ;  it  is  the  repose  of  wearied  na- 
ture ;  it  steals  men  away  one  by  one,  while  the  world  goes 
still  on  its  way.  We  fear  it  at  a  distance,  but  not  near.  But 
the  day  of  the  Lord  was  to  be  a  change,  not  to  the  individual 
only,  but  to  the  world  ;  a  scene  of  great  fear  and  great  joy  at 
once  to  the  whole  Church  and  to  all  mankind,  which  is  in  its 
very  nature  sudden,  unexpected,  coming  "  as  a  thief  in  the 
night,  and  as  travail  upon  a  woman  with  child.**  Yet  it 
might  be  said  to  be  expected,  too,  so  strange  and  contradic- 
tory is  its  nature  ;  for  the  first  disciples  were  sitting  waiting 
for  it,  "  with  their  lamps  lighted  and  th«*ir  loins  girded."  It 
was  not  dai'kness,  nor  sleep,  nor  death,  but  a  day  of  light  and 
life,  io  the  expectation  of  which  men  were  to  walk  as  children 


BELIEF   IN   THE    COMING    OF    CHRIST.  401 

of  the  light,  yet  fearful  by  its  very  suddenness  and  the  ven- 
geance to  be  poured  on  the  wicked. 

Such  a  belief  could  not  be  without  its  effect  on  the  lives  of 
the  first  converts,  and  on  the  state  of  the  Church.  While  it 
increased  the  awfulness  of  life,  it  almost  unavoidably  with- 
drew men's  thoughts  from  its  ordinary  duties.  It  naturally 
led  to  the  state  described  in  the  Corinthian  church,  in  which 
spirituaV  gifts  had  taken  the  place  of  moral  duties,  and  of 
those  very  gifts,  the  less  spiritual  were  preferred  to  the  more 
spiritual.  It  took  the  mind  away  from  the  kingdom  of  God 
within,  to  fix  it  on  signs  and  wonders,  "  the  things  spoken  of 
by  the  prophet  Joel,"  when  the  sun  should  be  turned  into 
darkness,  and  the  moon  into  blood.  It  made  men  almost 
ready  to  act  contrary  to  the  decrees  of  Caesar,  from  the  sense 
of  what  they  saw,  or  seemed  to  see,  in  the  world  around  them. 
The  intensity  of  the  spiritual  state  in  which  they  lived,  so  far 
beyond  that  of  our  daily  life,  is  itself  the  explanation  of  the 
spiritual  disorder  which  seems  so  strange  to  us  in  men  who 
were  ready  to  hazard  their  lives  for  the  truth,  and  which  was 
but  the  natural  reaction  against  their  former  state. 

It  is  obvious  that  such  a  belief  was  inconsistent  with  an  es- 
tablished ecclesiastical  order.  A  succession  of  bishops  could 
have  had  no  meaning  in  a  world  that  was  to  vanish  away. 
Episcopacy,  it  has  been  truly  remarked,  was  in  natural  antag- 
onism to  Montanism ;  and  in  the  age  of  the  Apostles  as  well, 
there  is  an  opposition,  traceable  in  the  Epistles  themselves, 
between  the  supernatural  gifts  and  the  order  and  discipline  of 
the  Church.  Ecclesiastical  as  well  as  political  institutions  are 
not  made,  but  grow.  What  we  are  apt  to  regard  as  their 
first  idea  and  design  is  in  reality  their  after  development,  what 
in  the  fulness  of  time  they  become,  not  what  they  originally 
were,  the  former  being  faintly,  if  at  all,  discernible  in  the  new 
birth  of  the  Church  and  of  the  world. 

Nor  is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  meagreness  of 

those  historical  memorials  of  tlie  first  age  which  survived  it, 

has  been  the  result  of  such  a  belief.     What  interest  would  be 

attaclied  to  the  events  of  this  world,  if  they  were  so  soon  to 
34  # 


402  BELIEF  m  THE    COMING   OF    CHRIST, 

be  lost  in  another  ?  or  to  the  lessons  of  history,  when  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  were  in  a  few  years  to  appear  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  Christ  ?  Even  the  narrative  of  the  acts 
and  sayings  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind  must  have  had  a  dif- 
ferent degree  of  importance  to  those  who  expected  to  see  with 
their  eyes  the  Word  of  life,  and  to  us,  to  whom  they  are  the 
great  example,  for  after  ages,  of  faith  and  practice.  Among 
many  causes  which  may  be  assigned  for  the  great  historical 
chasm  which  separates  the  life  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles 
from  after  ages,  this  is  not  the  least  probable.  The  age  of 
the  Apostles  was  an  age,  not  of  history,  but  of  prophecy. 


THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST,   CONSIDERED  AS  A 
SACRIFICE.* 

By  JAMES  FOSTER,  D.  D. 


One  of  the  positive  institutions  of  Christianity  is  what  we 
commonly  call  the  Lord's  Supper.  And  as  in  this  accordance, 
the  death  of  Christ  is  commemorated  under  the  notion  of  a 
sacrifice,  I  shall,  before  I  specify  the  moral  uses  of  it,  en- 
deavor briefly  to  explain  and  vindicate  that  representation ; 
which  is  the  more  necessary,  because  nothing  in  the  whole 
Christian  doctrine  has  been  more  grossly  misrepresented,  or 
given  its  adversaries,  who  take  their  accounts  of  it  from  party 
writers,  and  not  from  the  New  Testament  itself,  (a  method  of 
proceeding  that  argues  great  unfairness  and  prejudice,)  a 
more  plausible  occasion  to  triumph.  But  if  the  matter  be 
rightly  considered,  it  will  appear  that  the  advantages  which 
they  think  they  have  against  the  Christian  religion  upon  this 
head  are  but  imaginary.     For, 

1.  The  New  Testament  nowhere  represents  God  as  a 
rigorous,  inexorable  being,  who  insisted  upon  full  satisfaction 
for  the  sins  of  men,  before  he  could  be  induced  to  ofi'er  terms 
of  reconciliation.  It  says,  indeed,  not  one  word  of  satisfac- 
tion, much  less  of  strict  and  adequate  satisfaction,  not  a 
syllable  of  the  infinite  evil  of  sin,  of  infinite  justice,  the 
hypostatical  union,  or  "  the  Deity's  being  so  united  to  the 
man  Christ  Jesus,  as  that  the  two  infinitely  distinct  natures 

*  From  the  Defence  of  the  Christian  Revelation,  in  reply  to  TindaL 


404  DEATH    OF    CHRIST. 

constitute  one  person,"  and,  "  by  virtue  of  this  union,  giving 
an  infinite  value  to  the  sufferings  of  the  human  nature,  and 
enabling  it  to  pay  a  strict  equivalent  to  God's  offended  vin- 
dictive justice."  All  this,  I  say,  is  the  invention  of  more 
modern  ages,  (which,  by  subtle  distinctions,  and  metaphysical 
obscurities,  have  deformed  true  Christianity  to  such  a  degree, 
that  scarce  any  of  its  original  features  appear,)  and  bear?  not 
the  least  similitude  to  the  language  of  the  New  Testament ; 
in  which  the  Divine  Being  is  always  described  as  slow  to 
anger,  merciful,  and  condescending  to  the  frailties  and  infirmi- 
ties of  mankind ;  and  forgiveness  of  sin  represented,  not  as 
a  thing  for  which  a  price  of  equal  value  was  paid,  and  which 
might  consequently  be  demanded  in  strict  justice,  but  as  a 
voluntary  act  of  pure  favor,  and  the  effect  of  free  and  un- 
deserved goodness.     Nay,  further, 

2.  The  New  Testament  never  asserts,  that  God  could  not 
have  pardoned  sin  without  a  sacrifice,  nor,  consequently,  that 
the  death  of  Christ,  considered  in  that  view,  was,  upon  any 
account,  absolutely  necessary.  If  indeed  it  be  proved  that 
this  method  is  of  Divine  appointment,  this  will  and  ought  to 
satisfy  us,  that  there  are  wise  reasons  for  it,  but  it  cannot  be 
inferred  from  hence,  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary,  or  that 
the  same  wise  purposes  might  not  have  been  as  effectually 
answered  some  other  way.     Nor, 

3.  Does  the  Christian  religion  anywhere  expressly  declare, 
or  so  much  as  intimate  to  us,  that  natural  reason  could  not 
discover  God  to  be  a  propitious  being,  and  ready  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  his  guilty  creatures  upon  their  repentance ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  lays  down  this  as  the  fundamental  j)oint  of  all 
religion,  and  consequently  as  a  principle  that  might  be  argued 
with  great  probability,  that  "  God  is  a  rewarder  of  them  who 
diligently  seek  him,"  Heb.  ii.  6,  and  supposes,  that  the  great 
goodness,  which  he  luis  demonstrated  in  the  genenil  constitu- 
tion of  tilings,  and  course  of  provideiKe,  was  a  rational  en- 
couragement to  the  Gentile  world  to  8er\'e  and  worship  him, 
ill  hopes  of  acceptance  and  mercy. 

4.  It  is  of  great  importance  to  observe,  tliat  the  death  of 


DEATH    OP    CHRIST.  405 

Christ,  as  appears,  would  have  happened,  if  it  had  never  been 
designed  as  a  sacrifice,  and  consequently  was  not  appointed 
arbitrarily  and  solely  with  a  view  to  that.  The  true  state  of 
the  case  seems  to  be  this.  The  wise  and  merciful  God,  hav- 
ing compassion  on  the  ignorance  and  degeneracy  of  the  world, 
determined,  at  a  certain  time  fixed  by  his  infinite  wisdom,  to 
interpose,  and  when  they  had  corrupted  the  religion  of  nature, 
and  were  not  likely  to  recover  the  right  knowledge  of  it,  teach 
them  their  duty  by  an  external  revelation.  The  person 
whom  he  chose  to  be  his  messenger  is  characterized  as  his 
Son,  an  innocent  person,  of  great  dignity  and  excellence, 
whom  he  had  before  employed  in  the  most  important  trans- 
actions, and  who  was  highly  beloved  and  favored  by  him; 
and  the  principal  reason  of  his  employing  one  so  extraor- 
dinary as  his  minister  upon  this  occasion,  we  are  told  in  the 
New  Testament,  was  to  conciliate  greater  attention  and  re- 
gard to  his  doctrine.  Matt.  xxi.  37 ;  Heb.  i.  1,  2  ;  ii.  2,  3. 
We  are  to  take  it,  therefore,  I  think,  that  the  first  view  of 
God  in  sending  Christ  into  the  world  was,  that,  as  a  prophet, 
he  might  restore  the  true  religion,  and  publish  the  glad  tidings 
of  life  and  immortality,  and  by  this  means  reform  the  errors 
and  vices  of  mankind. 

But,  as  he  was  sent  to  preach  a  most  strict  and  holy  doc- 
trine, among  a  people  abominably  corrupt  and  vicious,  to 
recommend  a  rational  and  spiritual  worship  of  the  Deity  to 
those  who  were  fond  of  form  and  ceremony,  and  resolved  the 
whole  of  the  religion  into  external  rites  and  traditional  super- 
stitions, and  assumed  the  character  of  their  Messiah,  or  king, 
when  both  his  circumstances  in  life,  and  the  rehgion  he 
taught,  contradicted  the  expectations  they  had  entertained  of 
temporal  pomp  and  grandeur  under  the  Messiah's  govern- 
ment, and  consequently  disappointed  all  the  views  of  their 
covetousness  and  ambition,  he  gained  comparatively  but  few 
converts,  and  was  abused  and  persecuted  by  the  priests  and 
men  in  power,  whom  the  multitude  blindly  followed,  and  at 
last  put  to  death  with  great  torment  and  ignominy.  From 
this  plain  and  unquestionably  true  account   of  the  fact,  it 


406  DEATH    OF    CHRIST. 

appears  that  his  sufferings  were  the  natural  consequence  of 
attempting  to  reform  the  manners  of  a  degenerate  age,  and 
opposing  the  superstition  and  dariing  prejudices  of  the  Jewish 
nation  ;  and  could  not  be  avoided,  but  by  such  a  compliance 
on  his  part,  as  would  have  been  inconsistent  with  virtue  and 
integrity,  or  by  a  miraculous  interposition  of  Providence. 
And  God,  who  foresaw  all  this,  appointed  that  the  death  of 
Christ,  which  really  happened  in  the  natural  course  of  things, 
should  be  considered  as  a  sacrifice. 

Let  me  observe,  by  the  way,  that  by  considering  the  matter 
in  this  light,  all  objections  against  the  justice  of  God,  in 
determining  that  an  innocent  person  should  suffer  for  the 
guilty,  are  entirely  obviated.  For  the  death  of  Christ  was 
not  appointed  absolutely  and  arbitrarily  with  this  view,  but, 
which  is  vastly  different,  and  cannot  sure  have  the  least 
appearance  of  injustice,  it  fell  out  just  as  other  events  do,  in 
the  common  course  of  things ;  and  all  that  can  be  immediately 
attributed  to  God  in  the  whole  affair  is,  that  he  sent  him  into 
the  world,  though  he  foresaw  the  consequences  of  it ;  and 
ordered  that  his  death,  which  would  have  happened  without  a 
miracle,  if  there  had  been  no  such  design,  should  be  regarded 
as  a  sacrifice.  Though,  I  must  own,  I  cannot  see,  if  the 
matter  had  been  otherwise,  how  it  could  be  unjust,  or  tyran- 
nical, to  propose  even  to  an  innocent  person  to  suffer,  with  his 
own  free  consent,  in  order  to  promote  so  great  a  good  ;  espe- 
cially if  we  suppose,  what  the  Christian  revelation  expressly 
teaches  in  the  present  case,  that  he  would  be  gloriously  and 
amply  rewarded  for  it  Having  thus  removed  all  the  difficul- 
ties of  any  moment  that  lie  against  this  doctrine,  the  only 
thing  that  remains  is  to  show  what  wise  ends  might  be  served 
by  it, 

I  sliall  not  inquire  into  the  original  of  expiatory  sacrificed, 
which  were  as  early  in  the  world  as  the  first  accounts  of  his- 
iovy  ;  whether  they  were  owing  to  an  express  appointment  of 
God,  as  may  seem  probable  from  the  history  of  Moses,  or  had 
their  rise  from  the  fears  and  superstition  of  mankind,  who, 
being  uneasy  uuder  a  sense  of  guilt,  confused  in  their  reason- 


DEATH    OF    CHRIST.  407 

ings  about  the  goodness  of  the  Deity,  and  uncertain  whether 
he  would  accept  them,  notwithstanding  past  offences,  upon 
their  repentance  and  reformation  only,  (though,  I  make  no 
doubt,  they  might  have  argued  this  truth,  with  a  good  deal  of 
probability,  even  from  the  light  of  nature,)  would  naturally 
fly  to  every  little  expedient,  that  their  bewildered  imagina- 
tions suggested  might  be  proper ;  and  so  began  first  with 
sacrificing  brute  creation,  and  afterwards,  as  their  distrust  and 
fears  increased,  had  recourse,  in  many  heathen  nations,  to  the 
abominable  practice  of  human  sacrifices.  Which  shows  plain- 
ly, that  their  reason  was  more  and  more  perplexed,  and  cor- 
rupted, and  darkened  to  a  prodigious  degree,  with  respect  to 
the  very  fundamental  principles  of  religion  and  virtue. 

If  sacrificing  was  entirely  a  human  invention,  it  would  be 
hard  to  give  any  account  of  it,  more  than  of  innumerable 
other  superstitions,  which,  in  the  darkness  and  extreme  de- 
pravity of  the  Pagan  world,  almost  universally  prevailed. 
Human  sacrifices  are  a  disgrace  to  our  nature,  as  well  as  in 
the  highest  degree  dishonorable  to  God.  And  for  others, 
there  is  no  foundation  at  all  in  reason  to  suppose  that  they 
could  expiate  the  guilt  of  moral  offences,  or  be  of  the  least 
efficacy  towards  reinstating  the  sinner  in  the  Divine  favor. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  sacrifices  were  originally  of  Divine 
appointment,  they  could  not  be  designed  to  propitiate  the 
Deity,  because  the  very  institution  of  them  necessarily  sup- 
posed that  he  was  already  propitious.  For  what  end  then 
were  they  ordained  ?  Was  it  because  the  all-wise  and  merci- 
ful Governor  of  the  world  delighted  in  the  blood  of  innocent 
animals  ?  Or  was  he  fond  of  being  served  with  great  ex- 
pense and  ceremony  ?  These  are  low  and  unworthy  concep- 
tions of  him.  All  the  uses  therefore  that  it  was  possible,  in 
reason,  for  sacrifices  to  serve,  or,  consequently,  that  they 
should  be  designed  to  answer,  if  they  were  of  divine  original, 
may  I  think  be  reduced  to  these  two ;  namely,  keeping  up  a 
firm  belief  of  God's  reconcilableness,  and  being  ready  to 
forgive  his  guilty  creatures  upon  their  repentance,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  a  strong  sense  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  their  own 


408  DEATH   OF    CETRIST. 

demerit  upon  the  account  of  it.  In  this  view  of  standing 
memorials  and  testimonies  to  the  most  important  truths,  they 
might  be  very  useful ;  but  proper  expiations  they  neither 
were,  nor  could  be,  whether  they  began  from  superstition,  or 
immediate  revelation. 

And  now  the  death  of  Christ  may  be  very  fitly  represented 
as  a  sacrifice,  nay,  described  in  the  strongest  sacrificial 
phrases,  since  it  answered  completely  all  the  rational  pur- 
poses that  expiatory  sacrifices  could  ever  serve.  It  is  a 
standing  memorial  of  God's  being  propitious,  and  inclined,  as 
the  Christian  revelation  assures  us,  not  only  to  forgive  sin  in 
part,  but  entirely,  and  not  only  to  remit  the  whole  of  the 
punishment,  which  the  sinner  had  deserved,  but  moreover  to 
bestow  on  him  the  glorious  reward  of  eternal  happiness  upon 
his  sincere  repentance  and  reformation,  and  persevering  in  a 
virtuous  course.  So  that  it  removes  the  uncertainty  of  our 
natural  reasonings,  and  is  wisely  calculated  to  maintain  in  all 
ages  a  firm  belief  of  that  fundamental  principle  of  all  re- 
ligion, which  men's  superstitious  fears  had  very  much  cor- 
rupted and  darkened,  and  gives  the  strongest  possible  en- 
couragement to  virtue. 

Again,  the  death  of  Christ  considered  under  the  notion  of 
a  sacrifice  will  be,  to  the  end  of  the  world,  a  most  lively 
memorial  of  the  evil  and  demerit  of  sin.  Nay,  as  God,  in 
his  infinite  wisdom,  has  ordered  it  in  such  a  manner,  that 
nothing  less  should  be  considered  as  the  sacrifice  for  the  sins 
of  the  world  than  the  death  of  a  person  so  dear  to  him  and 
of  such  transcendent  dignity  and  excellence,  he  has  by  this 
appointment  declared  much  more  strongly  his  displeasure 
against  sin,  and  what  the  sinner  himself  deserved  to  suflTer, 
and  cut  off  more  effectually  from  wilful  and  impenitent 
offenders  all  ground  of  presumptuous  hope  and  confidence 
in  his  mercy,  than  it  wius  possible  to  do  by  any  sacrifices  of 
brute  creatures.  So  that  by  the  way  in  which  he  has  con- 
descended to  pardon  us  there  is  the  utmost  discouragement 
given  to  vice,  and  the  greatest  care  taken  that  could  be  by  any 
method  wl»atcver  to  preserve  the  honor  of  the  Divme  got 


DEATH    OF    CHRIST.  409 

emment,  and  the  reverence  due  to  the  authority  of  its  laws. 
For,  besides  what  hath  been  already  suggested,  a  sense  of  our 
ill  deserts  upon  account  of  our  transgressions,  of  which  the 
death  of  Christ  represented  as  a  sacrifice  is  a  most  affecting 
memorial,  has  a  natural  tendency  to  inspire  us  with  the  deep- 
est humility,  and  fill  us  with  shame  and  remorse  for  having 
deviated  from  the  rule  of  right,  and  consequently  to  make  us 
more  circumspect  and  regular  in  our  future  behavior ;  and  a 
sense  of  God's  great  goodness  in  freely  forgiving  our  offences, 
when  we  had  merited  quite  the  contrary,  must,  if  we  have 
any  sentiments  of  gratitude  or  honor,  make  us  solicitous  to 
please,  and  fearful  of  offending  him. 

If  it  be  asked,  how  the  death  of  Christ  can  answer  the 
purpose  of  an  expiatory  sacrifice,  when  it  happened  in  the 
natural  course  of  things,  and  was  not  appointed  directly,  and 
only  with  that  view,  I  answer,  that,  such  sacrifice^  being 
never  designed  to  propitiate  the  Deity,  or  as  proper  expia- 
tions, but  memorials,  in  the  manner  above  explained,  there  is 
no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  it.  For,  in  all  other  cases,  it 
was  God's  appointing  and  accepting  the  sacrifice  only,  that 
made  it  a  proper  memorial ;  otherwise  it  could  have  no  sig- 
nificancy,  but  what  the  fancy  and  superstition  of  men  sug- 
gested. The  use  of  sacrifices,  therefore,  depending  entirely 
on  his  institution  of  them,  or  at  least  the  use  of  those  which 
were  directly  of  his  ordaining  being  that,  and  that  only,  which 
he  intended,  it  follows,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  that  if 
he  is  pleased  to  call  the  death  of  Christ  a  sacrifice,  and  would 
have  it  considered  under  that  character,  it  must  be  a  fit 
memorial  of  all  he  designed  should  be  represented  by  it. 
And,  besides,  it  has  been  shown,  that  there  are  several  cir- 
cumstances which  render  it  a  more  useful  memorial,  than 
any  other  sacrifices  that  were  ever  offered. 

Let  me  add  to  what  has  been  said  concerning  the  advan- 
tages of  considering  the  death  of  Christ  as  a  sacrifice  in 
general,  that  by  its  being  described  as  the  one  offering  which 
has  "  perfected  for  ever  them  that  are  sanctified,"  Heb.  x. 
14,  the  Christian  religion  has  guarded,  in  the  most  effectual 
35 


410  DEATH    OF    CHRIST. 

manner,  against  the  use  of  all  sacrifices  for  the  future,  and 
particularly  against  human  sacrifices,  one  of  the  most  mon- 
strous corruptions  of  anything  v.hich  has  borne  the  name  of 
religion,  that  ever  appeared  in  the  world.  And  I  would  hope, 
that  even  its  adversaries  will  allow  this  to  be  a  great  argu- 
ment in  its  favor,  that  it  was  so  wisely  suited  to  the  state  of 
the  world  at  that  time,  and  not  only  abolished  sacrificing,  ^  but 
in  a  way  accommodated  in  some  measure  to  the  general  con- 
ceptions and  prejudices  of  mankind,  and  consequently  the 
more  likely  to  take,  guarded  against  the  revival  of  a  custom 
afterwards,  (preserving  however  all  the  rational  uses  of  it,) 
which  had  been  the  source  of  infinite  superstition. 

Should  it  be  said,  that  there  is  no  need  of  such  memorials 
as  sacrifices  were,  and  the  death  of  Christ  is  represented  to 
be,  because  if  the  Christian  religion  had  asserted  clearly  that 
God  is  a  propitious  being,  and  particularly  expressed  the 
terms  upon  which  his  guilty  creatures  might  be  reconciled  to 
him,  —  if  it  had  declared  absolutely  against  the  use  of  all  sacri- 
fices, and  condemned  especially  the  barbarity  and  inhumanity 
of  human  sacrifices,  —  this  alone  would  have  been  suflficient ; 
I  answer,  that  it  might  indeed  have  been  sufficient ;  but  how 
does  it  appear,  which  is  the  point  on  which  the  argument 
wholly  turns,  that  the  appointing  a  memorial  of  these  things, 
in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  is  tiseless  ?  Thus  much  is  unde- 
niable, that  these  things  do  not  in  the  least  interfere.  But, 
besides,  was  not  the  great  end  in  view  most  likely  to  be  se- 
cured by  positive  declarations,  and  a  standing  memorial  both, 
that  will  naturally  give  light  to  and  strengthen  each  other? 
To  which  we  may  add,  that  the  superstition  of  men  will  in 
some  circumstances  pervert  the  plainest  words ;  but  it  is  not 
80  easy  to  evade  the  design  of  a  memortal,  especially  in  that 
very  way,  namely,  under  the  notion  of  a  sacrtjicey  to  which 
their  superstition  would  directly  tend. 

There  is  nothing,  that  I  can  find,  advanced  by  the  author 
of  Christianity  as  old  as  the  Creation^  upon  this  head,  but 
what  has  been  fully  obviated,  or  goes  upon  the  conAuon  mis 
takes  of  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  Christ's  sacrifice.     Only, 


DEATH    OF    CHRIST.  411 

whei-eas,  ho  says,  "that  the  reasons  assigned  for  it  could 
never  influence  those  who  never  heard  of  Christ."  *  I  allow 
it.  But  what  then  ?  Is  it  not  enough,  that  they  may  be  of 
great  use  to  those  who  have  heard  of  him  ?  Nay,  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ's  being  a  propitiation  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world  is  not  therefore  useless,  because  a  great  part  of  the 
world  know  nothing  of  it,  since  it  is  of  the  highest  moral 
advantage  to  those  who  enjoy  the  Christian  revelation ;  as  it 
represents  to  them  the  universal  goodness  of  the  common 
Father  of  mankind,  and  that  "  in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth 
God,  and  worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted  with  him  "  ;  and, 
consequently,  encourages  universal  benevolence,  and  an  es- 
teem of  the  whole  rational  creation,  however  distinguished  by 
external  privileges,  and  restrains  that  spiritual  pride  and 
insolence,  which  prompt  many  Christians,  to  the  reproach  of 
our  holy  religion,  (and  is  indeed  too  common  in  all  religious 
sects,,  who  imagine  the  superiority  to  be  on  their  side,)  to 
confine  the  favor  of  God  to  themselves,  and  despise,  censure, 
and  condemn  all  others. 

I  proceed  now  to  point  out  a  few  of  the  excellences  and 
eminent  advantages  of  that  positive  institution  of  Christianity, 
in  which  we  commemorate  the  death  of  Christ,  and  particu- 
larly under  the  character  of  a  sacrifice.  And  the  moral  uses 
of  it  are  so  plain,  and  withal  so  various,  and  exceeding  great, 
that  it  may  be  questioned,  whether  anything  of  a  positive 
nature  can  possibly  be  appointed,  that  has  a  stronger  tendency 
to  promote  the  practice  of  virtue,  nay,  as  will  sufficiently 
appear  by  just  enumerating  them,  of  the  most  amiable,  gen- 
erous, and  heroic  virtue. 

In  general,  as  we  perform  this  service  in  honor  of  Christ, 
we  thereby,  as  well  as  by  baptism,  solemnly  profess  our  belief 
of  his  religion,  and  consequently  engage  to  make  it  the  rule 
of  our  behavior.  But  to  mention  some  of  its  peculiar  ad- 
vantages. Frequently  commemorating  the  death  of  Christ, 
as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  must  maintain  in  us  a  constant,  firm 

.  *  Christianity,  &c,  p.  418. 


412  DEATH    OF    CHRIST. 

belief  of  that  first  principle  even  of  natural  religion,  that  God 
is  ready  to  forgive  all  sincere  penitents,  and  "  a  rewarder  of 
them  that  diligently  seek  him  " ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  as  it 
sets  before  us  our  own  great  demerit,  must  impress  a  strong 
and  lively  sense  of  the  goodness  of  God,  in  freely  pardoning 
our  offences,  and  rewarding  so  abundantly  our  sincere  though 
imperfect  virtue ;  the  natural  consequence  of  which  will  be, 
shame  for  having  done  amiss,  and  affronted  the  government 
of  so  gracious  and  compassionate  a  Being,  and  the  highest 
abhorrence  of  such  an  ungenerous  conduct  for  the  future. 
If  we  reflect,  with  becoming  gratitude,  on  God's  wondeiful 
benevolence  and  mercy  to  mankind,  it  is  impossible  but  this 
must  produce  a  cheerful  obedience  to  all  his  commands,  and 
especially  a  delight  in  doing  good  after  his  most  excellent  and 
perfect  example.  Again,  when  we  remember,  that  the  very 
design  of  the  death  of  Christ  was  "  to  redeem  us  from  all 
iniquity,"  and  make  us  "  zealous  of  good  works,"  Tit.  ii.  14, 
and  that  upon  these  terms  only  we  are  to  expect  any  ad- 
vantage from  it,  nothing  can  have  a  more  powerful  tendency 
to  excite  to  strict  and  universal  purity. 

Further,  if  we  consider  our  partaking  of  this  ordinance  as 
a  communion,  "  the  cup  of  blessing,  which  we  bless,  as  the 
communion  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  the  bread,  which  we 
break,  as  the  communion  of  the  body  of  Christ,"  1  Cor.  x.  16, 
by  which  we  acknowledge  all  sincere  Christians,  however 
denominated  and  distinguished,  as  our  brethren,  members 
together  with  ourselves  of  the  same  spiritual  body,  or  society, 
entitled  to  the  same  privileges,  and  having  the  same  "  hope 
of  their  calling  "  ;  fliat  '*  we,  being  many,  ai'c  one  bread,  and 
one  body,  because  we  are  all  partakers  of  that  one  bread," 
ver.  17;  —  this  must  be  of  excellent  use  to  promote  mutual 
esteem,  concord,  and  harmony  ;  and,  if  the  true  intention  of 
it  was  followed,  would  make  Christians  regard  one  another  ac- 
cording to  their  real  merit,  and  not  for  the  trifling  peculiarities 
of  any  particular  sect,  and  effectually  reconcile  all  party 
differences ;  by  which  means  im|)osition8  u|M)n  conscience,  vio- 
lent controversies,  unscriptural  terms  of  communion,  schisms, 


DEATH    OF    CHRIST.  413 

persecutions,  which  have  been  of  fatal  consequence  both  to 
religion  and  civil  society,  would  be  entirely  prevented.  But 
lest  we  should  stop  here,  and  confine  our  benevolence  to  the 
household  of  faith,  considering  the  death  of  Christ  as  "  a  pro- 
pitiation for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world,"  1  John  ii.  2,  will 
naturally  inspire  a  universal  love  of  mankind.  For  there  is 
an  irresistible  force  in  the  Apostle's  argument,  "  If  God  so 
loved  us,  we,"  who  are  dependent  upon  and  obliged  to  each 
other,  and  cannot  subsist  without  a  mutual  intercourse  of  good 
ofiices,  "  ought  much  more  to  love  one  another."  Chap.  iv.  11. 
Indeed,  commemorating  the  death  of  Christ  in  a  devout 
and  solemn  manner,  in  its  entire  design,  and  with  all  its  cir- 
cumstances, will  suggest  the  greatest  and  most  generous  sen- 
timents, and  afford  motives  to  the  most  extensive  and  heroic 
benevolence  that  mankind  can  possibly  practise.  For,  besides 
what  has  been  already  hinted,  if  we  consider  that  God  gave 
his  Son  to  die  for  us  while  we  were  enemies,  Rom.  v.  10, 
this  must  kill  all  the  seeds  of  malice  and  revenge  in  us,  and 
raise  such  a  noble  spirit  of  humanity  and  compassion  as  the 
greatest  injuries  shall  not  bear  down  and  extinguish ;  which 
will  be  further  strengthened  by  reflecting  on  the  behavior  of 
Christ,  who  under  the  greatest  abuses  and  indignities  pitied 
and  prayed  for  his  persecutors.  His  example,  likewise,  in 
choosing  to  die  rather  than  forfeit  his  integrity,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  mankind,  will  teach  us,  and  accordingly 
it  is  thus  inculcated  by  St.  John,  1  John  iii.  16,  to  sacrifice  all 
private  considerations,  nay,  life  itself,  for  the  public  good ; 
and,  besides,  has  a  tendency  to  beget  in  us  an  entire  submis- 
sion to  Providence  under  the  worst  circumstances  that  may 
befall  us,  and  an  undaunted  fortitude,  resolution,  and  con 
stancy  of  mind,  when  we  are  called  to  suffer  in  a  good  cause, 
and  for  the  advancement  of  truth  and  virtue.  And  all  these 
aro-uments  will  receive  an  additional  force,  when  we  reflect 
that  the  example  we  commemorate  is  that  of  a  friend  and 
generous  benefactor,  an  example  that  is  in  itself  amiable,  and 
which  we  should  consequently  be  ambitious  to  imitate ;  and 
from  the  innocence  and  dignity  of  the  sufterer. 
35* 


414  DEATH    OF    CHRIST. 

As  therefore  it  appears  that  we  cannot  commemorate  the 
death  of  Christ  in  the  manner  in  which  Christianity  has  com- 
manded it,  without  having  our  resolutions  to  practise  univer- 
sal virtue  strengthened,  and  improving  in  the  greatest,  most 
amiable,  useful,  and  godlike  dispositions,  which  this  institution 
has  a  peculiar  and  most  admirable  aptitude  to  excite  and  con- 
firm ;  need  I  add  anything  more  to  prove  that  it  is  worthy 
of  God,  a  being  of  absolute  purity,  a  being  of  most  perfect 
and  universal  goodness  ?  Or  that  it  is  becoming  the  wisdom 
of  his  providence,  and  suitable  to  the  great  end  he  has  in 
view,  the  rectitude  and  happiness  of  the  moral  creation,  to 
oblige  us  by  a  law  made  on  purpose,  and  the  practice  of  a 
plain,  significant  rite,  to  enter  frequently  upon  such  reflec- 
tions as  are  of  the  utmost  moral  use,  and  yet,  without  some 
institution  of  this  kind,  (considering  how  little  inclined  the 
bulk  of  mankind  are  to  think,  unless  they  are  put  upon  it,) 
are  likely  to  be  omitted,  or  very  much,  neglected ;  and,  be- 
sides, cannot  reasonably  be  expected  to  have  that  weight 
and  influence  in  a  slight,  cursory,  occasional  meditation,  as 
they  will  very  probably,  when  they  are  considered  as  a 
Bolemn  act  of  devotion,  which  we  perform  in  obedience  to 
an  express  Divine  command? 


THE    EPISTLES   TO   THE   CORINTHIANS,   IN 
RELATION  TO  THE   GOSPEL  HISTORY. 

By  ARTHUR  P.    STANLEY,  M.  A.  * 

CANON  OF  CANIERBDRT. 

"  Have  I  not  seen  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  1"  —  1  Cor.  ix.  1. 

The  two  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians,  as  has  been  already 
observed,  are  eminently  historical ;  and  in  the  course  of  the 
remarks  made  upon  them  it  has  been  my  object  to  draw  out 
as  clearly  as  possible  every  illustration  or  testimony  which 
they  afford  to  the  history  of  the  early  Church.  But  there  is 
another  kindred  question,  which  is  so  important  in  itself,  that, 
though  partially  touched  upon  in  the  several  passages  which 
bear  upon  it,  it  may  yet  not  be  out  of  place  at  the  close  of 
these  Epistles  to  consider  it  as  a  whole. 

The  question  which  the  Apostle  asked  of  his  Judaizing  op- 
ponents, and  which  his  Judaizing  opponents  asked  of  him, 
"  Have  I  not  seen  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ?  "  is  one  which  in 
our  days  has  been  often  asked  in  a  wider  sense  than  that  in 
which  the  words  were  used  by  the  Apostle  or  his  adversaries. 
"  Is  the  representation  of  Christ  in  the  Epistles  the  same  as 
the  representation  of  Christ  in  the  Gospels  ?  —  What  is  the 
evidence,  direct  or  indirect,  furnished  by  St.  Paul  to  the  facts 
of  the  Gospel  history  ?  If  the  Gospels  had  perished,  could 
we  from  the  Epistles  form  an  image  of  Christ,  like  to  that 
which  the  Gospels  present?  Can  we  discover  between  the 
Epistles  and  the  Gospels  any  such  coincidences  and  resem- 

*  From  his  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  Paul  to  the  Corinthians. 


416  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTHIANS, 

blance  as  Paley  discovered  between  the  Epistles  and  tLe 
Acts  ?  Is  the  '  Gospel '  of  the  Evangelical  Apostle  different 
from  the  '  Gospel  *  of  the  Evangelistic  narratives  ?  " 

Such  an  inquiry  has  been  started  sometimes  in  doubt,  some- 
times in  perplexity.  It  is  suggested  partly  by  the  nature  of 
the  case,  by  that  attitude  of  separation  and  independent  action 
which  St.  Paul  took  apart  from  the  other  Apostles,  and  which, 
even  irrespectively  of  his  writings,  awakened  in  the  minds  of 
his  opponents  the  suspicion  that  "  he  had  not  seen  the  Lord 
Jesus,"  —  that  he  was  not  truly  an  "  Apostle  of  Christ,"  and 
that  therefore  "  he  taught  things  contrary  to  Christ's  teach- 
ing." It  is  suggested  also  by  the  attempts  which  in  later 
times  have  been  made,  both  by  those  without  and  by  those 
within  the  outward  pale  of  Christianity,  to  widen  the  breach 
between  the  teaching  of  the  Epistles  and  the  Gospels ;  both 
by  those  who  have  been  anxious  to  show  that  the  Christian 
faith  ought  to  be  sought  in  "  not  Paul,  but  Jesus  " ;  and  by 
those  who  believe  and  profess  that  "  the  Go>pel  "  is  contained, 
not  in  the  Evangelical  History,  but  in  the  Pauline  Epistles. 

From  many  points  of  view,  and  to  many  minds,  questions 
like  these  will  seem  superfluous  or  unimportant.  But,  touch- 
ing as  they  do  on  various  instructive  subjects,  and  awakening 
in  some  quarters  a  peculiar  interest,  they  may  well  demand  a 
consideration  here.  The  two  Epistles  to  Corinth  are  those 
from  whic'h  an  answer  may  most  readily  be  obtained,  both 
because  they  contain  all,  or  almost  all,  of  the  most  important 
allusions  to  the  subject  of  the  Gospel  history,  and  also  be- 
cause they  belong  to  the  earliest,  as  well  as  the  most  undis- 
puted, portion  of  the  Apostolical  writings.  At  the  same  time, 
it  will  not  interfere  with  the  precision  or  unity  of  the  inquiry, 
if  it  includes  such  illustrations  as  may  be  furnished  by  the 
other  Epistles  also. 

I.  The  first  ehiss  of  coincidences  to  which  we  most  naturally 
turn,  are  those  which  relate  to  isolated  sayings  of  Christ, 
This  (partly  for  reasons  which  will  be  stated  hereafter)  is  the 
least  satisfactory  part  of  the  inquiry.  It  ciuinot  be  denied 
that  they  are  few  and  scanty,  and  that,  in  these  few,  ther^ 


m   RELATION   TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  417 

IS  in  no  case  an  exact  correspondence  with  the  existing 
narratives. 

There  are  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles  only  two  occasions  on 
which  our  Lord's  authority  is  directly  quoted.  In  1  Cor.  vii. 
10,  when  speaking  of  marriage,  the  Apostle  refers  to  a  com- 
mand of  the  Lord,  as  distinct  from  a  command  of  his  own, 
and  as  the  command  he  gives  the  words,  "  Let  not  the  wife 
depart  from  her  husband^  In  1  Cor.  ix.  14,  when  speaking 
of  the  right  of  the  Apostles  to  receive  a  maintenance  from 
those  whom  they  taught,  he  says,  "  Even  so  the  Lord  '  or- 
dained''  {bUra^fv)  that  they  which  preach  the  Gospel  shoidd 
live  of  the  Gospel^  In  neither  case  are  the  exact  words  of 
the  existing  records  quoted  ;  but  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  he 
refers  in  one  case  to  the  prohibition,  "  Whosoever  shall  put 
away  his  wife  ....  causeth  her  to  commit  adultery  "  (Matt.  v. 
32  ;  Mark  x.  11  ;  Luke  xvi.  18)  ;  in  the  other,  to  the  com- 
mand to  the  Twelve  and  the  Seventy,  "  Carry  neither  purse 
nor  scrip  nor  shoes, . .  .  .for  the  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire  " 
(Luke  X.  4,  7  ;  Matt.  x.  9,  10). 

To  these  quotations  we  may  add,  that  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  (xx.  35),  in  his  speech  to  the  Ephesian  elders, 
"  Remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said,  Jt  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.^^  It  is  also  to  be  observed, 
that,  in  closing  the  discussion  on  the  conduct  of  Christian  as- 
semblies (1  Cor.  xiv.  37),  he  says,  "  If  any  man  think  himself 
to  be  a  prophet,  or  spiritual,  let  him  acknowledge  that  the 
things  that  I  write  unto  you  are  commandments  of  the  Lord'* 
{icvplov  evTokai).  The  form  of  expression  seems  to  imply  that 
here,  as  in  vii.  10,  he  is  referring  to  some  distinct  regulation 
of  Christ,  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  follow  out.  But  if 
so,  this,  like  the  saying  just  quoted  in  Acts  xx.  35,  is  now 
nowhere  to  be  found. 

Four  other  passages  may  be  mentioned,  which,  not  from 
any  distinct  reference  on  the  part  .of  the  Apostle,  but  from 
their  likeness  of  expression,  may  seem  to  have  been  derived 
from  the  circle  of  our  Lord's  teaching,  (a.)  "  Being  reviled,  we 
Uess*'  {\oi8opovficpoi  evXoyoi'ixev,  1  Cor.  iv.  12),  may  have  some 


418  THE    EPISTLES   TO   THE    CORINTHIANS, 

relation  to  Luke  vi.  28,  "  Bless  them  that  curse  you  **  (fvXo- 
•yeiTf  Toi/s  Karapcofxtuovs).  (/3.)  "  Know  ye  not  that  the  saint* 
shall  judge  the  world?"  (1  Cor.  vi.  2)  may  refer  to  Luke 
xxii.  30  (Matt.  xix.  28),  "  Te  shall  sit  on  thrones,  judging 
the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  (y.)  In  the  command  that  the 
woman  is  to  •'  attend  on  the  Lord  without  distraction  "  {evna- 
pcbpov  ....  dTr€pi(nrd(TTa)9,  1  Cor.  vii.  35),  the  two  emphatic 
words  are  substantially  the  same  as  are  employed  in  the  nar- 
rative containing  the  commendation  of  Mary.  "  Mary  sitting  " 
(napaKadio-acra),  "  Martha  aimbered"  {nfpifandTo,  Luke  x.  39, 
40).  (8.)  In  1  Cor.  xiii.  2,  "  Faith,  so  that  I  could  remove 
mountains"  may  be  an  allusion  to  Matt.  xvii.  20 :  "  If  ye 
have  faith,  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence^ 
These  instances,  however,  are  all  too  doubtful  to  serve  as  the 
foundation  of  an  argument. 

With  respect  to  all,  however,  three  remarks  may  be  made, 
more  or  less  important :  First,  their  want  of  exact  agreement 
with  the  words  of  the  Gospel  narrative  implies  (what  indeed 
can  hardly  be  doubted  for  other  reasons),  that,  at  the  time 
when  the  Epistles  to  Corinth  were  written,  the  Gospels  in 
their  present  form  were  not  yet  in  existence.  Secondly,  this 
same  discrepancy  of  form,  combined  with  an  unquestionable 
likeness  in  spirit,  agrees  with  the  discrepancies  of  a  similar 
kind  which  are  actually  found  between  the  Gospel  narratives ; 
and,  when  contrasted  with  the  total  dissimilarity  of  such  iso- 
lated sayings  as  are  ascribed  to  Christ  by  Irenaeus,  show  that 
the  atmosphere,  so  to  speak,  of  the  Grospel  history  extended 
beyond  the  limits  of  its  actually  existing  records,  and  that 
within  that  atmosphere  the  Apostle  was  included.  The  Apos- 
tle, to  whom  we  owe  the  preservation  of  the  saying,  "  It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,"  has  thereby  become  to 
us  truly  an  "  Evangelist,"  Thirdly,  the  manner  in  which  the 
Apostle  refers  to  these  sayings  proves  the  undisputed  claim 
which  they  had  already  established,  not  only  in  his  own  mind, 
but  in  that  of  the  whole  Church.  He  himself  still  argues 
and  entreats  "  as  the  Scrib'^s  "  ;  but  he  quotes  the  sentence  of 
Clu-ist,  as  tiiat  from  whicli  there  was  to  be  no  appeal,  "  as  of 


IN   RFXATION   TO    THE    GOSPEL   HISTORY.  419 

one  having  authority."  "  Not  I,  but  the  Lord  "  (1  Cor.  vii. 
]0),  is  the  broad  distinction  drawn  between  his  own  sugges- 
tions respecting  marriage,  and  the  principle  which  the  Lord 
had  laid  down,  and  which  accordingly  is  incorporated  in  three 
out  of  the  four  Gospels,  and  once  in  the  discourse  especially 
designed  to  furnish  the  universal  code  of  Christian  morality.* 
So,  too,  the  command  that  the  teachers  of  the  Gospel  were 
"  to  live  of  the  Gospel"  (1  Cor.  ix.  14),  had  received  such 
entire  and  absolute  acceptance,  that  it  was  turned  by  the  Ju- 
daizing  party  into  a  universal  and  inflexible  rule,  admitting 
of  no  deviation,  even  for  the  sake  of  Christian  love.  Already 
the  Lord's  words  had  become  the  law  of  the  Christian  so- 
ciety ;  already  they  had  been  subjected  to  that  process  by 
which,  as  in  later  times  so  in  this  particular  instance,  the  less 
enlightened  disciples  have  severed  the  sacred  text  from  the 
purpose  to  which  it  was  originally  applied,  and  sacrificed  the 
spirit  of  the  passage  to  a  devout  but  mistaken  observance  of 
the  letter. 

n.  From  the  particular  sayings,  we  turn  to  the  particular 
acts  of  the  life  of  Christ.  These,  as  might  be  supposed, 
appear  more  frequently,  though  still  not  so  generally  as  at 
first  sight  we  should  naturally  expect. 

To  the  earlier  events  it  may  be  said  that  the  allusions  are 
next  to  none.  "  Born  (yevofxevov)  of  the  seed  of  David  after 
the  flesh"  (Rom.  i.  3),  "born  of  a  woman"  (yeuofieuov  ck 
yvvaiKos),  "  born  under  ^Ae  law"  (yeponevou  viro  vofiop),  Gal.  iv. 
4,  are  the  only  distinct  references  to  the  Nativity  and  its  ac- 
companiments. So  far  as  they  go,  they  illustrate  the  stress 
laid  by  the  Evangelists  on  the  lineage  of  David  (Luke  ii.  4, 
23,  Matt.  i.  1),  on  the  announcement  and  manner  of  his 
birth  (Luke  ii.  4,  Matt.  i.  23),  and  on  the  ritual  observances 
which  immediately  followed  (Luke  ii.  21  -  24).  But  this  is 
all ;  and  perhaps  the  coincidence  of  silence  between  the 
Apostle  and  the  two  Evangelists,  who  equally  with  himself 
omit  these  earlier  events,  is  more  remarkable  than  his  slight 

*  Matt.  V.  32  ;  Mark  x.  11 ;  Luke  xvi.  18. 


420  THE    EPISTLES    TO    TUK    CORTNTniAXS, 

confirmation  of  the  two  who  record  them.  The  likeness  to 
St.  ISIark  and  St.  Jolm  in  this  respect  may,  if  we  so  consider 
it,  be  refjarded  as  instructive  lis  the  unlikeness  to  St.  Luke 
and  St.  Matthew. 

Neither  is  there  any  detailed  allusion  to  the  ministry  or 
miracles  of  Christ.  To  the  miracles,  indeed,  there  is  none, 
unless  it  be  granted  that  in  the  expression,  "  Ye  cannot  par- 
take of  the  Lord's  table,  and  the  table  of  devils "  (dainoviav) 
(1  Cor.  X.  21),  the  peculiar  stress  laid  on  that  word,  not  else- 
where used  by  the  Apostle,  is  deepened  by  the  recollection 
that  He  whose  table  they  thus  profaned  had  so  long  and 
often  cast  out  the  very  demons  with  which  they  now  brought 
themselves  into  contact.  To  the  general  manner,  however,  of 
our  Lord's  mode  of  life,  there  is  one  strong  testimony  which 
agrees  perfectly  both  with  the  fact  and  the  spirit  of  the  Gos- 
pel narrative.  2  Cor.  viii.  9,  "  For  your  sakes  He  became 
poor*'  (enTcoxcva-f).  To  this  we  must  add  the  corresponding, 
though  somewhat  more  general,  expression  in  Phil.  ii.  7. 
"  He  took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  slave  "  (fiop(pf}v  8ov\ov), 
It  is  possible,  perhaps  probable  from  the  context,  that  in  both 
these  passages  the  Apostle  may  have  meant  generally  the 
abnegation  of  more  than  earthly  wealth  and  power,  the  as- 
sumption of  more  than  earthly  poverty  and  humiliation.  But 
the  context  shows,  also,  that  poverty  in  the  one  case,  and 
lowliness  of  life  in  the  other,  each  in  its  usual  sense,  were  the 
special  thoughts  in  the  Apostle's  mind ;  and  in  the  case  of 
"  poverty,"  the  word  (fnTaxtva-e)  can  signify  nothing  less  than 
that  He  led  a  life,  not  only  of  need  and  want,  but  of  houseless 
wandering  and  distress.  It  points  exactly  to  that  state,  im- 
plied rather  than  expressly  described  in  the  Gospels,  in  which 
"  He  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head  " ;  and  in  which  He  per- 
severed "  when  He  was  rich  '* ;  that  is,  when  He  might  have 
taken  the  "  kingdom  of  Judnea,"  "  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,** 
and  "  twelve  legions  of  angels  "  to  defend  Him. 

But  it  is  in  the  closing  scenes  of  our  Lord's  life  that  the 
Apostle's  allusions  centre.  In  this  respect,  his  practice  is 
confirmed  by  the  outward  form  of  the  four  Gcspels,  which 


IN   RELATION   TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  421 

unite  in  this  portion  of  the  history,  and  in  this  portion  only. 
This  concentration,  however  caused,  is  the  same  both  in  the 
Evangeh'sts  and  in  the  Apostle.  His  "  Gospel,"  it  would 
seem,  in  his  narrative  of  the  events  of  the  Evangelical  his- 
tory, began  with  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  "  First  of  all,  I 
delivered  to  you  how  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  "  (1  Cor. 
XV.  8).  And  the  main  subject  of  his  preaching  in  Corinth 
and  in  Galatia  was  the  crucifixion  of  Christ,  not  merely  the 
fact  of  his  death,  but  the  horror  and  shame  of  the  manner 
of  his  death.  "The  cross  of  Christ"  (1  Cor.  i.  17,  18); 
"  Christ  crucified  "  (ib.  ii.  23)  ;  even  vividly,  and,  if  one  may 
so  say,  graphically  portrayed  before  their  eyes ;  "  Jesus 
Christ  was  evidently  set  forth  ('  as  in  a  picture,'  ivpoeypa^rj) 
crucified  amongst  them"  (Gal.  iii.  1). 

The  distinct  allusions  to  His  sufferings  are  few,  but  precise ; 
for  the  most  part  entirely  agreeing  with  the  Gospel  narra- 
tives, and  implying  much  more  than  is  actually  expressed. 
There  are  two  not  contained  in  these  Epistles,  but  certainly 
within  the  limits  of  the  teaching  of  the  Apostle.  One  is  the 
allusion  to  the  agony  in  the  garden,  in  Heb.  v.  7 :  "  In  the 
days  of  his  flesh,  when  he  had  offered  up  prayers  and  sup- 
plications and  strong  crying  and  tears  unto  Him  that  was  able 
to  save  him  from  death,  and  was  heard  in  that  he  feared." 
That  the  account  is  drawn  from  a  source  independent  of  the 
four  Gospels  is  clear  from  the  mention  of  tears^  which  on  that 
occasion  nowhere  occurs  in  the  Gospel  narratives.  But  the 
general  tendency  is  precisely  similar.  The  other  is  the  allu- 
sion in  1  Tim.  vi.  13,  to  "  the  good  confession  "  which  Christ 
Jesus  "  witnessed  before  Pontius  Pilate.^*  Tliis  is  the  more 
remarkable,  because,  although  it  may  be  sufficiently  explained 
by  the  answer,  "Thou  say  est,"  in  Matt,  xxvii.  11,  yet  it 
points  much  more  naturally  to  the  long  and  solemn  interview 
peculiar  to  the  narrative  of  St.  John.  (John  xviii.  28  -  xix. 
12.)  But  the  most  definite  and  exact  agreement  of  the  Apos- 
tle's writings  with  the  Gospel  narratives  is  that  which,  in 
1  Cor.  xi.  23-26,  contains  the  earliest  written  account  of  the 
institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  It  is  needless  to  point  out 
36 


422  THE   EPISTLES   TO   THE    CORINTHIANb, 

in  detail  what  has  already  been  shown  in  the  notes  on  that 
passage.  But  it  is  important  to  observe  how  very  much  it 
implies  as  to  the  Apostle's  knowledge  of  the  whole  story. 
Not  only  are  the  particulars  of  this  transaction  told  in  almost 
the  same  words,  —  the  evening  meal,  the  night  of  the  be- 
ti-ayal,  the  Paschal  loaf,  the  Paschal  cup,  the  solemn  insti- 
tution, —  but  the  form  of  words  is  such  as  was  evidently 
part  of  a  fixed  and  regular  narrative ;  the  whole  history  of 
the  Passion  must  have  been  known  to  St.  Paul,  and  by  him 
been  told  in  "detail  to  the  Corinthians  ;  and,  if  so,  we  may 
fairly  conclude  that  many  other  incidents  of  the  sacred  story 
must  have  been  related  to  them,  no  less  than  this  which,  but 
for  the  peculiar  confusions  of  the  Corinthitm  Church,  would 
have  remained  unrecorded. 

The  Resurrection,  like  the  Death,  of  Christ,  is  the  subject 
of  allusions  too  numerous  to  be  recounted.  But  here,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  Death,  we  have  one  passage  which  shows  us 
that  not  merely  the  bare  fact  was  stated,  but  also  its  accom- 
panying circumstances.  This  is  the  almost  necessary  infer- 
ence from  the  enumeration  of  the  various  appearances  of 
Christ  after  his  Resurrection,  as  recorded  in  1  Cor.  xv.  4-7. 
Here,  as  in  the  four  Gospel  narratives,  a  distinct  prominence 
is  given  to  the  Burial  of  Christ,  here,  as  there,  in  connection 
with  the  Resurrection  rather  than  tiie  Death ;  here,  as  there, 
the  appearances  are  described  as  occasional  only,  not  constant 
or  frequent ;  one  of  those  to  which  the  Apostle  refers  (that  to 
Peter)  is  alluded  to  in  the  Gospels  (Luke  xxiv.  34)  ;  the 
appearance  to  the  Twelve  is  described  in  Matt,  xxviii.  16  (?)  ; 
Mark  xvi.  14 ;  Luke  xxiv.  36 ;  John  xx.  19.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  mention  of  the  appearance  to  James,  and  to  tlie  five 
hundred  brethren,  shows  that,  although  in  substance  the  same 
narrative,  it  is  different  in  form ;  the  source  is  independent ; 
there  are  still  the  same  lesser  discrepancies  between  the 
Apostle  and  tlie  Evangelists,  as  between  the  several  Evan- 
gelists themselves. 

It  may  be  observed,  in  concluding  these  detailed  references 
to  the  Grospel  history,  that  they  almost  all,  so  far  as  thej 


IN   RELATION   TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  423 

refer  to  one  Gospel  narrative  rather  than  another,  agree  with 
that  of  St.  Luke.  The  exceptions  are  the  doubtful  allusions 
to  the  interview  recorded  by  St.  John,  in  1  Tim.  vi.  13  ;  the 
saying  recorded  by  St.  MatthcAV,  in  1  Cor.  xiii.  4 ;  and  the 
agreement  with  St.  John  and  St.  Mark,  rather  than  with  St. 
Luke,  in  omission  of  distinct  references  to  our  Lord's  early 
histoiy.  All  the  rest,  even  to  words  and  phrases,  have  a  re- 
lation to  St.  Luke's  Gospel,  so  intimate  as  to  require  some 
explanation ;  and  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  adopt 
the  account  anciently  received,  that  the  author  or  compiler  of 
that  Gospel  was  the  companion  of  the  Apostle. 

These  are  the  main  facts  which  are  recorded  from  the  Gos- 
pel History.  Perhaps  they  will  not  seem  many ;  yet,  so  far 
as  they  go,  they  are  not  to  be  despised.  From  them  a  story 
might  be  constructed,  even  if  we  knew  no  more,  which  would 
not  be  at  variance  —  which,  in  all  essential  points,  would  be 
in  unison  —  with  the  Gospel  narrative. 

HI.  But  the  impression  of  this  unison  will  be  much  con- 
firmed, if  from  particular  sayings  or  facts  we  pass  to  the 
general  character  of  Christ,  as  described  in  these  Epistles. 

(1.)  It  may  be  convenient,  in  the  first  instance,  to  recall 
those  passages  which  speak  of  our  Lord  in  the  most  general 
manner,  —  1  Cor.  i.  30,  which  tells  us  that  "  He  was  made  unto 
us  wisdom,  and  righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemp- 
tion " ;  1  Cor.  viii.  6,  which  speaks  of  "  the  one  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  by  whom  are  all  things,  and  we  by  him  "  ;  1  Cor.  xv. 
45,  in  which  He  is  called  "  the  second  Adam  " ;  2  Cor.  v.  1 6, 
19,  in  which  He  is  spoken  of  as  the  Judge  of  all  men,  and 
that  in  Him  was  God,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself  by 
Him.  Other  passages  to  the  same  effect  might  be  multiplied, 
but  these  will  suffice. 

We  are  so  famihar  with  the  sound  of  these  words,  and  so 
much  accustomed  to  apply  them  to  other  purposes,  that  we 
rarely  think  of  the  vastness  and  complexity,  and  at  the  same 
time  freshness  and  newness,  of  the  ideas  impHed  in  their  first 
application  to  an  actual,  individual  Man.  Let  us  imagine  our- 
selves bearing  them  for  the  first  time,  —  perceiving  laat  thev 


424  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    COKINTIIIANS, 

were  uttered  by  one  who  had  the  deepest  and  most  sohiM 
conviction  of  their  truth,  —  perceiving,  also,  that  they  wei-e 
spoken,  not  of  some  remote  or  ideal  character,  but  of  One  who 
had  lived  and  died  during  the  youth  or  early  manhood  of  him 
who  so  spoke.  Should  we  not  ask,  like  the  Psalmists  and 
Prophets  of  old,  "  Who  is  this  King  of  glory  ?  Who  is  this 
that  Cometh,  travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength?" 
With  what  eagerness  should  we  look  for  any  direct  account 
of  the  life  and  death,  to  which  such  passages  referred,  to  seo 
whether  or  not  the  one  corresponded  with  the  other  ? 

Let  us  (for  the  sake  of  illustration)  conceive  ourselves,  in 
the  first  instance,  turning  to  the  Apocryphal  Gospels,  —  the 
Gospels  of  the  Infancy,  of  James,  of  Thomas,  and  of  Nicode- 
mus,  from  which  (it  is  no  imaginary  case)  was  derived  the 
only  picture  of  our  Lord's  life  known  to  the  Arabian  and  Sy- 
rian tribes  of  the  seventh  century,  in  the  time  of  Mahomet ; 
and  we  should  at  once  feel  that  with  the  utterly  trivial  and 
childish  fables  of  those  narratives  the  Apostle's  representation 
had  no  connection  whatever.  The  Koran,  wishing  to  speak 
with  high  respect  of  "Jesus,  the  Son  of  Mary,"  contains  a 
chapter  devoted  to  the  subject.  The  following  is  the  speech 
which  He  is  represented  as  uttering,  to  commend  himself  to 
the  Jews :  "  I  come  to  you,  accompanied  by  signs  from  the 
Lord.  I  shall  make  of  clay  the  figure  of  a  bird ;  I  shall 
breathe  upon  it,  and,  by  God's  permission,  the  bird  shall  fly, 
I  shall  heal  him  that  was  born  blind,  and  the  leper ;  I  shall, 
by  God's  permission,  raise  the  dead.  I  will  tell  you  what 
you  have  eaten,  and  what  you  have  hid  in  your  houses.  All 
these  facts  shall  be  as  signs  to  you,  if  you  will  believe.  I 
come  to  confirm  the  Pentateuch,  which  you  have  received 
before  me.  I  will  permit  to  you  the  use  of  certain  things 
which  have  been  forbidden  you.  I  come  with  signs  from 
your  Lord.  Fear  Ilim  and  obey  me,  —  He  is  my  Lord  and 
yours.  Adore  Him;  this  is  the  right  path."*  It  maybe 
that  the  Arabs  to  whom  this  picture  of  Christ  was  presented 

•  Koran  iH  43,  44. 


IN   RELATION    TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  425 

could  not  have  risen  at  the  time  to  anything  higher.  But  we 
cannot  wonder  that  such  a  picture  should  have  produced  no 
deep  impression  upon  them,  or  have  seemed  inferior  to  the 
prophet  who  had  himself  risen  up  amongst  them.  And  from 
seeing  what  might  have  been  the  image  of  Christ  presented  to 
us,  we  may  form  a  livelier  notion  of  that  which  has  been 
presented  to  us. 

From  these  Apocryphal  Gospels  let  us  suppose  ourselves 
turning  for  the  first  time  to  those  of  the  New  Testament.  No 
one,  even  though  doubting  the  inferences  which  the  Apostle 
draws,  could  doubt  that  the  Christ  there  exhibited  must  have 
been  He  of  whom  he  spoke.  Even  if  the  name  were  differ- 
ent, we  should  feel  sure  that  the  person  must  be  the  same. 
Here  alone  in  that  age,  or  any  age,  we  should  find  a  life  and 
character  which  was  truly  the  second  beginning  of  humanity  ; 
here,  if  anywhere,  we  should  recognize  God  speaking  to  man. 
In  that  life,  if  in  any  life,  in  those  words  and  deeds,  if  in  any 
words  and  deeds  whatever,  we  should  see  the  impersonation 
of  wisdom,  and  righteousness,  and  holiness,  and  redemption. 
As  the  readers  of  the  Prophets  instinctively  acknowledged 
that  to  Him  bare  all  the  Prophets  witness,  so,  if  we  had  up  to 
this  time  been  readers  of  the  Epistles  only,  and  now  first  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  Gospel  narratives,  we  should  even 
thus  far  be  constrained  to  say,  "  We  have  found  Him  of 
'vhom  '  Paul  in  his  Epistles  wrote,'  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
son  of  Joseph."  * 

The  Apostle's  words,  then,  thus  considered,  may  be  re- 
garded, on  the  one  hand,  as  a  striking  testimony  to  the  general 
truth  of  the  Gospel  narrative  ;  on  the  other  hand,  as  a  strik- 
ing prediction  of  what  has  since  taken  place.  On  the  one 
hand,  they  presuppose  that  a  character  of  extraordinary  great- 
ness had  appeared  in  the  world ;  and  such  a  character, 
whatever  else  may  be  thought  of  it,  we  actually  find  in  the 
Gospels.  We  feel  that  each  justifies  the  other.  The  image 
of  Christ  in  the  Gospels  will  be  by  all  confessed  to  approach 


=*  John  i.  45. 
36* 


42G  THE   EPISTLES   TO    THE    CORINTHIANS, 

more  nearly  to  the  description  of  the  Second  Adam,  the  ne^ 
Founder  of  humanity,  than  any  other  appearance  in  human 
history  ;  and  if  we  ask  what  effect  that  life  and  death  pro- 
duced at  the  time  of  its  appearance,  we  are  met  by  these  ex- 
pressions of  the  Apostle,  uttered,  not  as  if  by  any  effort,  but 
as  the  spontaneous  burst  of  his  own  heart,  within  one  genera- 
tion from  the  date  of  the  events  themselves.  And  as  these 
expressions  correspond  with  the  past  events  to  which  they 
refer,  so  also  do  they  correspond  with  the  future  to  which 
they  point.  If  the  expression  of  **  the  Second  Adam  "  was 
meant  to  characterize  a  great  change  in  the  history  of  the 
human  race,  we  should  expect  to  find  such  a  change  dating 
and  emanating  from  the  time  when  the  Second  Adam  had 
appeared.  Such  a  change  we  do  in  fact  find,  of  which  the 
beginning  is  crowned  with  the  life  of  Christ.  It  is  true  that 
the  great  division  of  modern  from  ancient  history  does  not 
commence  till  four  centuries  later ;  and  it  is  undeniable  that 
the  influx  of  the  Teutonic  tribes  at  that  time  had  a  most  im- 
portant influence  in  moulding  the  future  destinies  of  the 
civilized  world.  But  still  the  new  life  which  survived  the 
overthrow  of  the  Empire  had  begun  from  the  Christian  era. 
Christianity,  with  all  that  it  has  involved  in  the  religion,  the 
arts,  the  literature,  the  morals  of  Europe,  beyond  all  dispute 
originated  with  Christ  alone.  The  very  dates  which  are  now 
in  use  throughout  the  world  are  significant,  though  trivial, 
proofs  of  the  justice  of  the  Apostle's  declaration,  that  Christ 
was  the  Second  Man  ;  that  "  as  in  Adam  all  had  died,  even 
60  in  Christ  all  were  made  alive." 

(2.)  Thus  much  would  be  true,  even  if  nothing  more  pre- 
cise were  recorded.  But  every  shade  of  this  general  chaiac- 
ter  is,  if  one  may  so  say,  deepened  by  tiie  Apostle's  more 
special  allusions  ;  and  although  perhaps,  without  the  help  of 
the  Gospel  narratives,  we  might  miss  the  j)oint  of  his  ex- 
pressions, yet  with  that  help  the  image  of  Christ  comes  out 
clearly,  and  wo  still  see  it  to  be  no  invention  of  the  Apos- 
tle's imagination,  but  the  same  historical  definite  character 
which  is  set  before  us  in  the  Gospels. 


IN   RELATION   TO    THE    GOSTTL    HISTORY.  427 

(a.)  "  Christ  Jesus  was  made  unto  us  wisdom.^*  (1  Cor.  i. 
30.)  "  In  Him  Avere  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledgeJ^  (Col.  ii.  3.)  "  The  spirit  of  wisdom  is  given  to 
us  in  the  knowledge  of  Him."  (Eph.  i.  17.)  These  expres- 
sions may  be  merely  general  phrases  of  reverence,  but  how 
much  clearness  do  they  gain  when  they  are  compared  with 
the  actual  display  of  wisdom  stored  up  in  the  living  instruc- 
tions of  Christ !  There  is  no  special  reference  by  the  Apos- 
tle to  any  of  the  parables  or  discourses  of  the  Gospels.  But 
how  completely  do  those  "  things  new  and  old,"  "  brought  out 
of  his  treasure  "  (Matt.  xiii.  52),  answer  to  this  general  de- 
scription of  His  character.  "  Wisdom  "  is  not  the  attribute 
which  a  zealous  convert  would  necessarily  think  of  applying 
to  the  founder  of  his  religion.  It  is  so  applied  by  the  Apos- 
tle, and  we  see  from  the  Gospels  that  his  application  of  it 
cannot  be  questioned. 

(b.)  He  frequently  speaks  of  "  the  truth  of  Christ,"  and  he 
dwells  especially  on  the  certainty  and  fixedness  which  charac- 
terized all  His  life.  "  In  Him  was  7iot  yea  and  nay^'*  but 
"  yea  and  Amen.''  (2  Cor.  i.  20.)  It  is  at  least  a  striking 
illustration  of  these  passages  to  remember  what  Christ  again 
and  again  says  of  himself  in  St.  John's  Gospel,  as  having 
come  into  the  world  for  the  purpose  of  bearing  witness  to  the 
truth,  as  being  the  Truth ;  *  it  is  more  than  a  mere  conjec- 
ture to  read  in  the  Apostle's  words  the  echo  of  the  solemn 
asseveration  and  ratification  of  truth  which  runs  through  all 
the  Gospel  discourses,  "  Verily,  verily,  Amen^  Amen,  I  say 
unto  you." 

(c.)  The  Apostle  urges  on  his  converts  the  freedom  of  the 
doctrine  which  he  preached,  its  contrast  to  the  narrowness  and 
mystery  and  concealment  of  the  Jewish  law,  and  he  tells 
them  that  they  must  attain  this  freedom  through  "  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord,''  that  is,  of  Christ,  and  through  contemplation  of 
bis  hkeness.  We  turn  to  the  Gospels,  and  we  find  in  their 
representation  of  Christ  this  very  freedom  of  which  the  Apos- 

*  John  viii-  32 ;  xiv.  6  ;  xviii.  37. 


428  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTHIANS, 

lie  speaks  exemplified  in  almost  every  page ;  the  sacrifice  of 
the  letter  to  the  spirit,  the  encouragement  of  openness  and 
sincerity,  there  emphatically  urged  by  precept  and  example, 
at  once  give  an  edge  and  a  value  to  the  Apostle*s  argument, 
which  else  it  would  greatly  want. 

(d.)  The  Apostle  expressly  appeals  to  the  history  of  Christ 
as  an  example  of  surrendering  his  own  will  for  the  sake  of 
the  scruples  of  others.  "  We  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear 
the  infirmities  of  the  weah"  and  not  to  please  ourselves,  for 
even  Christ  pleased  not  himself,  but,  as  it  is  written,  "  the  re- 
proaches of  them  that  reproached  thee  fell  on  me."  (Rom.  xv. 

1,  3.)    "  Give  none  offence  ....  even  as  I  please  all  men 

'Befolbwers  of  me,  even  as  I  am  of  Christ."  (1  Cor.  x.  32, 
33  ;  xi.  1.)  Of  this  consideration  for  human  weakness  and 
narrowness,  the  direct  instances  in  the  Gospel  narrative  are, 
perhaps,  less  striking  than  the  general  indication  of  this  pecu- 
liar aspect  of  the  true  Christ-like  character.  Yet  his  con- 
stant, though  not  universal,  acquiescence  in  the  forms  of  the 
Mosaic  law ;  the  limits  within  which  he  restrained  his  own 
teaching,  and  that  of  his  disciples  ;  the  many  things  which 
he  withheld,  because  his  disciples  were  not  then  able  to  bear 
them ;  the  condescension  to  human  weakness  which  runs 
through  the  whole  texture  of  the  Gospel  history,  —  fully  jus- 
tify the  Apostle's  appeal,  not  the  less  from  the  very  indirect 
ness  of  the  application. 

(e.)  He  beseeches  his  converts  not  to  compel  him  to  say  or 
do  anything  which  shall  be  inconsistent  with  *'  the  meekness 
and  gentleness  (Trpatri/c  zeal  cVtfiKfta)  of  Christ."  (2  Cor.  x.  1.) 
These  words  are  not  the  mere  expressions  of  ideal  adoration  > 
they  recall  definite  traits  of  a  living  human  person.  They 
describe  traits  which  could  not  be  said  to  be  specially  exem- 
plified in  the  Apostle  himself,  but  which  were  exemplified  to 
the  full  in  the  life  and  teaching  of  liim  to  whom  the  Apostle 
ascribes  them. 

(f.)  In  many  passages  the  Apostle  speaks  of  Love.  In 
1  Cor.  xiii.  1-13,  he  describes  it  at  length.  It  is  a  new  virtue. 
Its  name  first  occurs  in  his  Epistles.     Yet  he  speaks  of  it  as 


IN   RELATION    TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  429 

fixed,  established,  recognized.  To  what  was  this  owing  ?  To 
whom  does  he  ascribe  it  ?  Emphatically,  and  repeatedly,  he 
attributes  it  to  Christ.  "  The  love  of  Christ."  "  The  love  of 
God  in  Christ."  Now  in  all  the  Gospels,  the  self-devoted, 
self-sacrificing  energy  for  the  good  of  others  which  the  word 
"  Love  "  (dydTTT))  denotes,  is  the  prevailing  characteristic  of 
the  actions  of  Christ ;  in  the  first  three,  the  word  itself  is  not 
used ;  but  in  the  fourth,  it  is  used  even  more  emphatically  and 
repeatedly  than  by  St.  Paul ;  and  thus,  besides  its  general 
testimony  to  the  truth  of  ail  the  Gospel  narratives,  it  specially 
serves  to  knit  together  in  one  the  thoughts  and  words  of  St. 
Paul  and  St.  John. 

(g.)  On  one  occasion  only  the  Apostle  gives  us  an  instance, 
not  of  what  he  had  "  received  "  of  Christ  as  on  earth,  but  of 
what  had  been  revealed  to  him  concerning  Christ  by  himself. 
In  answer  to  his  entreaty  thrice  offered  up  to  Christ  as  to  his 
still  present,  ever-living  friend,  there  had  been  borne  in  upon 
his  soul,  how  we  know  not,  a  distinct  message,  expressed  as  at 
his  conversion  in  articulate  words,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee,  my  strength  is  perfected  in  weakness."  In  the  similar 
mode  of  revelation  at  the  time  of  his  conversion,  "  Why  per- 
secutest  thou  me  ?  "  "I  am  Jesus  whom  thou  persecutest," 
the  spirit  of  the  whole  expression  is  the  same  as  that  which  in 
the  Gospels  represent  Christ  as  merged  in  the  person  of  the 
least  of  his  disciples.  So  these  words  of  Christ,  reported  by 
the  Apostle  himself  in  his  Epistle,  are  an  exact  reflex  of  the 
union  of  divine  strength  with  human  weakness  which  per- 
vades the  narrative  of  all  the  Gospels.  There  is  the  same 
combination  of  majesty  and  tenderness,  the  same  tones  of 
mingled  rebuke  and  love,  that  we  know  so  well  in  the  last 
conversations  *  by  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the  same  strength  and 
virtue  going  forth  to  heal  the  troubled  spirit,  as  of  old  to 
restore  the  sick,  and  comfort  the  afflicted.f 

We  have  now  gone  through  the  enumeration  of  all  the  most 
*  John  xxi.  t  Luke  vi.  19 ;  viii.  46. 


430  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTHIANS, 

important  allusions  to  the  facts  of  the  "Gospel  history  which 
St.  Paul's  epistles  contain,  —  an  enumeration  tedious  per- 
haps in  itself,  and  without  profit  to  many.  Yet,  before  we 
proceed,  I  would  ask  those  who  have  followed  me  thus  far  to 
pause  for  a  moment,  and  reflect  on  the  additional  strength  or 
liveliness  which  this  enumeration  may  have  given  to  their 
conceptions  of  the  Gospel  history.  It  is  not  much,  but,  con- 
sidering from  whom  these  instances  have  been  taken,  —  from 
a  source  so  near  the  time,  from  writings  whose  genuineness 
has  never  been  questioned  by  the  severest  criticism,  —  it  is 
something  if  it  may  suggest  to  any  one  a  steadier  standing- 
place  and  a  firmer  footing,  of  however  narrow  limits,  amidst 
the  doubts  or  speculations  which  surround  him.  Nor,  I  trust, 
can  it  have  been  wholly  unprofitable  to  have  approached  from 
another  than  the  usual  point  of  view  the  several  features  of 
our  Lord's  life  and  character  which  I  have  just  enumerated, 

—  to  dwell  on  the  Apostolic  testimony  rendered,  one  by  one, 
to  the  several  acts  and  words,  still  more  to  the  several  traits, 
most  of  all  to  the  collective  effect  of  the  character,  which  we 
usually  gather  only  from  the  Gospels.  His  severe  purity  of 
word  and  deed,  —  His  tender  care  for  even  the  temporal 
wants  of  his  disciples,  —  the  institution  of  that  solemn  part- 
ing pledge  of  communion  with  Himself  and  with  each  other, 

—  the  hope  of  a  better  life  which  He  has  opened  to  ua, 
amidst  the  sorrows  and  desolations  of  the  world,  —  His  stead- 
fastness and  calmness  amidst  our  levity  and  littleness,  —  His 
free  and  wide  sympathy  amidst  our  prejudice  and  narrow- 
ness,—  His  self-denying  poverty, —  His  gentleness  and  mild- 
ness amidst  our  readiness  to  offer  and  resent  injuries,  —  His 
love  to  mankind,  —  His  incommunicable  greatness  and  (so 
to  speak)  elevation  above  the  influence  of  time  and  fate, — 
all  this,  at  least  in  general  outline,  we  should  have,  even  if 
nothing  else  were  left  to  us  of  the  New  Testament  but  the 
passages  which  have  just  been  quoted. 

It  may  still,  however,  be  said,  that  these  indications  of  the 
Apostle's  knowledge  of  the  Ga<pel  history  are  less  than  we 
might  fairly  expect ;  and  we  may  still  be  inclined  to  ask  why, 


IN   RELATION    TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  431 

when  there  are  so  nlan  j  resemblances,  there  are  not  more  ? 
why,  if  he  knew  so  much  as  these  resemblances  imply,  he  yet 
says  so  little  ? 

It  is  perhaps  impossible  to  answer  this  fully,  or,  at  any  rate, 
to  answer  as  it  deserves  within  the  limits  here  prescribed. 
But  some  suggestions  may  be  made,  which,  even  if  they  do 
not  entirely  meet  the  case,  may  yet  be  sufficiently  important 
to  deserve  consideration. 

First,  it  must  be  remarked  that  the  representation  of  the 
life,  and  work,  and  character  of  Christ,  in  all  probability,  be- 
longed to  the  oral,  and  not  the  written,  teaching  of  the  Apos- 
tle. The  Gospels  themselves  have  every  appearance  of 
having  grown  up  out  of  oral  communications  of  this  kind  ; 
and  the  word  "  Gospel,"  which  must  have  been  employed  by 
the  Apostle  substantially  for  the  same  kind  of  instruction  as 
that  to  which  it  is  applied  in  the  titles  of  the  histories  of  our 
Lord's  life,  is  by  him  usually,  if  not  always,  used  in  reference, 
not  to  what  he  is  actually  communicating  in  his  Epistles,  but 
to  what  he  had  already  communicated  to  his  converts  when 
present.  This  supposition  is  confirmed  by  the  fact,  that  the 
most  express  quotation  of  a  distinct  saying  of  Christ  occurs, 
not  in  a  letter  of  the  Apostle,  but  in  the  eminently  character- 
istic speech  to  the  Ephesian  elders  (Acts  xx.  18-35),  and 
that,  in  the  two  passages  in  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians 
where  he  most  clearly  refers  to  wha,t  he  had  "  delivered"  to 
them  whilst  he  was  with  them  (1  Cor.  xi.  23  -  26  ;  xv.  3  -7), 
it  is  clear  that  his  instructions  turned  not  merely  on  the  gen- 
eral truths  of  the  Christian  faith,  but  on  the  detailed  accounts 
of  the  Last  Supper,  and  of  the  Resurrection.  Had  other 
subjects  equally  appropriate  in  the  Gospel  history  been  re- 
quired for  his  special  purpose,  there  seems  to  be  no  ref^^on 
why  he  should  not  equally  have  referred  to  these  also,  as 
communicated  by  him  during  his  stay  at  Corinth.  His  oral 
teaching  —  that  is  to  say,  his  first  communication  with  his 
converts  —  would  naturally  touch  on  those  subjects  in  which 
all  believers  took  a  common  interest.  The  instances  of  that 
teaching,  in  other  words,  the  everlasting  principles  of  the 
Gospel,  are  contained,  not  in  tradition,  nor  yet  (except  through 


432  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTHIANS, 

these  general  allusions)  in  his  own  writings,  but  in  the  four 
Gospels.  His  subsequent  teaching  in  the  Epistles  would 
naturally  relate  more  to  his  peculiar  mission,  —  would  turn 
more  on  special  occasions,  —  would  embody  more  of  his  own 
personal  and  individual  mind.  "  I,  not  the  Lord."  *  And  in 
ancient  times,  even  more  than  in  our  own,  in  sacred  authors 
no  less  than  classical,  we  must  take  into  account  the  effect  of 
the  entire  absorption  of  the  writer  in  his  immediate  subject, 
to  the  exclusion  of  persons  and  events  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance immediately  beyond.  Who  would  infer  from  the  history 
of  Thucydides  the  existence  of  his  contemporary  Socrates  ? 
How  different,  again,  is  the  Socrates  of  Xenophon  from  the 
Socrates  of  Plato  !  Except  so  far  as  the  great  truth  of  the 
admission  of  the  Gentiles  was,  in  a  certain  sense,  what  he 
occasionally  calls  it,  "  his  own  "  peculiar  "  Gospel,"  he  had 
already  "  preached  the  Gospel "  to  his  converts  before  he 
began  his  Epistles  to  them.  In  th<}  Epistles  he  was  not  em- 
ployed in  "  laying  the  foundation  "  (that  was  laid  once  for  all 
in  "Jesus  Christ,"  1  Cor.  iii.  10),  but  in  "building  up," 
"  strengthening,"  "  exhorting,"  "  settling." 

But,  over  and  above  this  almost  inevitable  distinction,  he 
was  in  his  Epistles  — r  in  his  individual  dealings  with  his  con- 
verts —  swayed  by  a  principle  which,  though  implied  through- 
out his  writings,  is  nowhere  so  strongly  expressed  as  in  these 
two.  Wlien  called  to  reply  to  his  Jewish  opponents,  who 
prided  themselves  on  their  outward  connection  with  Christ,  as 
Hebrews,  as  Israelites,  as  Ministers  of  Christ,  as  Apostles  of 
Christ,  as  specially  belonging  to  Christ  (2  Cor.  v.  12,  x.  7, 
xi.  22,  13),  when  taunted  by  them  with  the  very  charge 
which,  in  a  somewhat  altered  form,  we  are  now  considering, 
that  he  had  "not  seen  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  "  (1  Cor.  ix.  1), 
his  reply  is  to  a  certain  extent  a  concession  of  the  fact,  or 
rather  an  assertion  of  the  principle  by  which  he  desired  to 
confront  any  such  accusations.  With  the  strongest  sense  of 
freedom  from  all  personal  and  local  ties,  with  the  deepest  con- 
sciousness that  from  the  moment  of  his  conversion  all  his  past 

♦  I  Cor.  vii.  12. 


IN   RELATION    TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  433 

life  had  vanished  far  away  into  the  distance,  he  answers, 
"  Though  we  have  known  Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet  hence- 
forth know  we  him  no  more."  (2  Cor.  v.  10.)  Starthng  as 
this  declaration  is,  and  called  forth  by  a  special  occasion,  it 
yet  involved  a  general  truth.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  same  pro- 
found instinct  or  feeling  which  penetrated,  more  or  less,  the 
whole  Apostolical,  and  even  the  succeeding  age,  with  regard 
to  our  Lord's  earthly  course.  It  is  the  same  feeling  which 
appears  in  the  fact,  strange  if  it  were  not  well  known,  that  no 
authentic  or  even  pretended  likeness  of  Christ  should  have 
been  handed  down  from  the  first  century  ;  that  the  very  site 
of  his  dwelling-place  at  Capernaum  should  have  been  entire- 
ly obliterated  from  human  memory ;  that  the  very  notion  of 
seeking  for  relics  of  his  life  and  death,  though  afterwards  so 
abundant,  first  began  in  the  age  of  Constantino.  It  is  the 
same  feehng  which,  in  the  Gospel  narratives  themselves,  is 
expressed  in  the  almost  entire  absence  of  precision  as  to  time 
and  place,  —  in  the  emphatic  separation  of  our  Lord  from  his 
kinsmen  after  the  flesh,  even  from  his  mother  herself,  —  in 
his  own  solemn  warning,  "  What  and  if  ye  shall  see  the  Son 
of  man  ascend  up  where  he  was  before :  the  words  that  I 
speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit  and  they  are  life.  It  is  the 
spirit  that  quickeneth,  the  flesh  profiteth  nothing."  And  this 
is  the  more  observable  when  contrasted  with  the  Apocryphal 
Gospels,  which  do  to  a  great  extent  condescend  to  the  natural 
or  Judaic  tendency,  which  the  Gospels  of  the  New  Testament 
thus  silently  rebuke.  There  we  find  a  "  Gospel  of  the  In- 
fancy," filled  with  the  fleshly  marvels  that  delighted  afterwards 
the  childish  minds  of  the  Bedouin  Arabs  ;  there  first  are 
mentioned  the  local  traditions  of  the  scene  of  the  Annunciation, 
of  the  Nativity,  of  the  abode  in  Egypt ;  there  is  to  be  found 
the  story,  on  which  so  great  a  superstructure  has  been  built  in 
later  ages,  of  the  parents  and  birth  of  her  whom  the  Gospel 
history  calls  "  blessed,"  but  studiously  conceals  from  view.* 
The  Apostle's  reserve  no  doubt  was  strengthened  by  his 

*  See  "  Evangelia  Apocrypha"  (ed.  Tischendoif ),  pp.  1  -  11,  68, 79- 
81,184,  191-201. 

37 


434  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTIIIAI^^S, 

antagonism  with  his  Jewish  opponents ;  but  the  principle  oa 
which  he  acted  is  applicable  to  all  times.  It  explains  in  what 
sense  our  Lojd's  life  is  an  example,  and  in  what  sense  it  is 
not.  That  life  is  not,  nor  ever  could  be,  an  example  to  be 
literally  and  exactly  copied.  It  has  been  so  understood,  on 
the  one  hand,  even  by  such  holy  men  as  Francis  of  Assisi, 
who  thought  that  the  true  "  Imitation  of  Christ "  was  to  re- 
pr^fduce  a  fac-simile  of  all  its  outward  circumstances  in  his  own 
person.  It  has  been  so  understood,  on  the  other  hand,  by 
some  in  our  own  day,  who  have  attacked  it  on  the  express 
ground  that  it  could  not,  without  impropriety,  be  literally  re- 
enacted  by  any  ordinary  person  in  England  in  the  nineteenth 
century.  But  it  is  not  an  example  in  detail ;  and  those  who 
try  to  make  it  so,  whether  in  defence  or  in  attack,  are  but 
neglecting  the  warning  which  Bacon  so  beautifully  gives  on 
the  story  of  the  rich  young  man  in  the  Gospels :  "  Beware 
how,  in  making  the  portraiture,  thou  breakest  the  pattern."  ♦ 
In  this  sense  the  Christian  Church,  as  well  as  the  Apostle, 
ought  to  "  know  Christ  henceforth  no  more  according  to  the 
flesh."  All  such  considerations  ought  to  be  swallowed  up  in 
the  overwhelming  sense  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  state  in 
which  we  stand  towards  Him.  In  this  sense  (if  we  may  so 
say)  He  is  more  truly  to  us  the  Son  of  God  than  He  is  the 
Son  of  man.  His  life  is  our  example,  —  not  in  its  outward 
acts,  but  in  the  spirit,  the  atmosphere  which  it  breathes,  —  in 
the  ideal  which  it  sets  before  us,  —  in  the  principles,  the  mo- 
tives, the  object  with  which  it  supplies  us. 

This  brings  us  to  yet  one  more  reason  why  St.  Paul's 
Epistles  contain  no  further  details  of  our  Lord's  ministry.  It 
was  because  they  were  to  him,  and  to  his  converts,  super- 
seded br  an  evidence  to  himself,  and  to  them,  far  more  con- 
vincing than  any  particular  proofs  or  facts  could  have  for 
them,  —  the  evidence  of  his  own  life,  of  his  own  constant 
communion  with  Him  in  whom  he  lived,  and  moved,  and  had 
his  being.  He  had,  no  doubt,  his  own  peculiarities  of  charac- 
ter, his  own  especial  cull  to  the  Gentiles.     Theso  gave  a  turn 


•  Bacon's  Essays,  Vol.  I.  p.  41. 


IN    RELATION   TO    THE    GOSPEL    HISTORY.  435 

to  his  life,  to  his  teaching,  to  his  writings.  These  gave  the 
Epistljs  a  character  of  their  own,  which  will  always  distin- 
guish them  from  the  Gospels.  But  still  the  spirit  which  per- 
vaded both  alike  was  (to  use  his  own  words,  often  and  often 
repeated)  «  of  Christ,"  and  "  in  Christ."  «  The  life  that  he 
lived  in  the  flesh,  he  lived  in  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God, 
who  died  and  gave  himself  for  him."  And  this  "  faith,"  on 
which  he  dwells  with  an  almost  exclusive  reverence,  is  not,  it 
must  be  remembered,  faith  in  any  one  part  or  point  of  Christ's 
work,  but  in  the  whole.  "  Faith  in  his  Incarnation,"  "  faith 
in  his  merits,"  "faith  in  his  blood,"  are  expressions  which, 
though  employed  in  later  times,  and,  like  other  scholastic  or 
theological  terms,  often  justly  employed  as  summaries  of  the 
Apostle's  statements,  yet  are,  in  no  instance,  his  own  state- 
ments of  his  own  belief  or  feeling.*  Measured  by  the  re- 
quirement which  demands  these  precise  forms  of  speech  from 
the  lips  of  all  believers,  the  Apostle  no  less  than  the  Evan- 
gelists will  be  found  wanting.  The  one  grand  expression,  in 
which  his  whole  mind  finds  vent,  is  simply  "  the  faith  of 
Christ."  It  is,  as  it  were,  his  second  conscience  ;  and,  as  men 
do  not  minutely  analyze  the  constituent  elements  of  conscience, 
so  neither  did  he  care  minutely  to  describe  or  bring  forward 
the  several  elements  which  made  up  the  character  and  work 
of  his  Master.  And  though  these  elements  are  distinctly  set 
forth  in  the  Gospels,  yet  the  Gospels  agree  even  here  with 
the  Epistles,  in  that  they,  like  the  Epistles,  put  forward  not 
any  one  part,  but  the  complex  whole,  as  the  object  of  adora- 
tion and  faith.  The  language  of  our  Lord  in  the  Gospels, 
like  that  of  St.  Paul  regarding  him  in  the  Epistles,  is  (not 
"  Believe  in  my  miracles,"  "  Believe  in  my  death,"  "  Believe 
in  my  resuiTection,"  but)  "  Believe  in  me." 

Finally,  if  it  be  said  that  this  is  an  impression  too  vague 
and  impalpable  to  be  definitely  traced,  the  answer  is  in  the 
Apostle's  character.  Much  there  was  doubtless  peculiar  to 
himself,  much  that  was  peculiar  to  his  own  especial  mission. 
But,  if  in  any  human  character  we  can  discern  the  effect  pro- 

*  The  apparent  exception  in  Rom.  iii.  25  is,  it  need  hardly  be  ob- 
:..rved  to  those  auquainted  with  the  original  language,  only  apparent. 


436  THE    EPISTLES    TO    THE    CORINTHIANS. 

duced  by  contact  with  another  liigher  and  greater  than  itself, 
such  an  effect  may  be  discovered  in  that  of  St.  Paul :  "  The 
love  of  Christ,"  *  the  love  which  Christ  had  shown  to  man, 
was,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  his  "  constraining  "  motive.  That 
love,  with  the  acts  in  which  it  displayed  itself,  was  the  great 
event  which  rose  up  behind  him  as  the  background  of  his  life ; 
as  the  single  point  from  which  all  his  thoughts  diverged  in  the 
past,  and  to  which  they  converged  again  in  the  future.  Unless 
a  love,  surpassing  all  love,  had  been  manifested  to  him,  we 
know  not  how  he  could  have  been  so  constrained ;  and,  we 
must  also  add,  unless  a  freedom  from  his  past  prejudices  and 
passions  had  been  effected  for  him,  by  the  sight  of  some  high- 
er freedom  than  his  own,  we  know  not  how  he  could  have 
been  thus  emancipated. 

Such  a  love,  and  such  a  freedom,  we  find  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles.  Such  a  combination  —  rarely,  if  ever,  seen  before, 
rarely,  alas!  seen  since  —  is  one  of  the  best  proofs  of  the 
reality  of  the  original  acts  in  which  that  combination  was 
first  manifested.  The  Gospel  narratives,  as  we  now  possess 
them,  were,  in  all  probability,  composed  long  after  these  Epis- 
tles. But  the  life  which  they  describe  must  have  been 
anterior.  That  life  is  "  the  glory,"  of  which,  as  the  Apostle 
himself  says,  his  writings  and  actions  are  "  the  reflection.** 
"Whatever  other  diversities,  peculiarities,  infirmities,  impass- 
ably divide  the  character  of  the  Apostle  from  that  of  his 
Master,  in  this  union  of  fervor  and  freedom  there  was  a  com- 
mon likeness  which  cannot  be  mistaken.  The  general  im« 
pulses  of  his  now  life  —  "  the  grace  of  God,  by  which  he  was 
what  he  was"  —  could  have  come  from  no  other  source. 
Wliatever  may  be  the  force  of  the  particular  allusions  and 
passjiges  which  have  been  collected,  the  general  effect  of  his 
whole  life  and  writings  can  hardly  leave  any  other  impression 
tlian  that  —  whether  by  "  revelation,**  or  by  "  receiving  ** 
from  others,  whether  **  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body,"  f  we 
cannot  tell  —  he  had  indeed  seen,  and  known,  and  loved,  and 
followed  Jesus  Christ  our  Ix)rd. 

•  2  Cor.  V.  U.       t  Gal.  i.  12 ;  1  Cor.  xi.  23 -xt.S;  2  Cor.  xU.  d. 


APOSTOLICAL   WORSHIP. 

Br  Rev.  ARTHUR  P.    STANLEY. 
1  Cor.  xiv.  26  -  40. 

It  may  be  important,  at  the  close  of  this  Section,  contain- 
ing, as  it  does,  the  Apostle's  final  advice  on  Christian  worship, 
to  sum  up  all  that  this  Epistle,  combined  with  the  other  notices 
in  the  New  Testament,  has  presented  to  us  on  this  subject. 

First.  The  Christian  assemblies  of  the  Apostolical  age,  un- 
like those  of  later  times,  appear  not  to  have  been  necessarily 
controlled  by  any  fixed  order  of  presiding  ministers.  "We 
hear,  indeed,  of  "  presbyters,"  or  "  elders,  "  in  the  churches  of 
Asia  Minor,*  and  of  Jerusalem.!  And  in  the  church  of 
Thessalonica  mention  is  made  of  "  rulers "  (npoia-Tafievovg 
vfiav)  ;  I  and,  in  the  churches  of  Galatia,  of  "  teachers  "  (tw 
KaTT]xovvTi).%  As  the  object  is  here  only  to  give  the  state 
of  the  Church  at  the  time  of  these  Epistles  to  Corinth,  no 
notice  need  be  taken  of  the  allusions  in  Epistles  of  a  later 
date.  But  no  allusion  is  to  be  found  to  the  connection  of 
these  ministers  or  officers,  if  so  they  are  to  be  called,  with  the 
worship  of  the  Apostolic  Church,  and  the  omission  of  any 
such  is  an  almost  decisive  pfoof  that  no  such  connection  was 
then  deemed  necessary.  Had  the  Christian  society  at  Corinth 
been  what  it  was  at  the  time  when  Clement  addressed  his 
Epistle  to  it,  or  what  that  at  Ephesus  is  implied  to  have  been 

*  Acts  xiv.  23.  t  Acts  xi.  30  ;  xv.  6,  22,  23. 

t  1  Thess.  V.  12.  §  Gal.  vi.  6. 

37* 


438  APOSTOLICAL    WORSHIP. 

in  the  Ignatian  Epistles,  it  is  almost  inevitable  that  some 
reference  should  have  been  made  by  the  Apostle  to  the  pre- 
siding government  which  was  to  control  the  ebullitions  of 
sectarian  or  fanatical  enthusiasm ;  that  he  should  have  spoken 
of  the  presbyters,  whose  functions  were  infringed  upon  by 
the  prophets  and  speakers  with  tongues,  or  whose  authority 
would  naturally  moderate  and  restrain  their  excesses.  Noth 
ing  of  the  kind  is  to  be  found.  The  gifts  are  to  be  regulated 
by  mutual  accommodation,  by  general  considerations  of  order 
and  usefulness ;  and  the  only  rights,  against  the  violation  of 
which  any  safeguards  are  imposed,  are  those  of  the  congre- 
gation, lest  "  he  that  fills  the  place  of  the  unlearned  "  (that  is, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  "  he  that  has  not  the  gift  of  speak- 
ing with  tongues  ")  should  be  debarred  from  ratifying  by  his 
solemn  Amen  the  thanksgiving  of  the  speaker.  The  gifta 
are  not,  indeed,  supposed  to  be  equally  distributed,  but  every 
one  is  pronounced  capable  of  having  some  gift,  and  it  is  im- 
plied as  a  possibility  that  "  all  "  may  have  the  gift  of  prophe- 
sying or  of  speaking  with  tongues. 

Secondly.  Through  the  gifts  thus  distributed,  the  worship 
was  carried  on.     Four  points  are  specially  mentioned  :  — 

(1.)  Prayer.  This,  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is  spoken 
of,  in  connection  with  the  tongues,  must  have  been  a  free  out- 
pouring of  individual  devotion,  and  one  in  which  women  were 
accustomed  to  join,  as  well  as  men.* 

(2.)  What  has  been  said  of  prayer  may  be  said  also  of 
Praise  or  Song^  ^/rnX^oy.f  We  may  infer  from  Eph.  v.  19, 
where  it  is  coupled  with  "  hymns  and  odes  "  {Zfivoa  Koi  wSair), 
that  it  must  have  been  of  the  nature  of  metre  or  rhythm,  and 
id  thus  the  first  recognition  of  Christian  poetry.  The  Apoc- 
alypse is  the  nearest  exemplificaUon  of  it  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment 

(3.)  Closely  connected  with  this,  both  in  itself  and  by  the 
context,  is  Thanksgiving.  Tlje  "  song  of  the  understanding  " 
id  specially  needed  in  the  giving  of  thanks.  X     In  this  passage 

•  xir.  13  - 15 ;  xL  6.  t  xiv.  15,  26.  %  zir.  16. 


APOSTOLICAL    WORSHIP.  439 

we  have  the  earliest  intimation  of  a  liturgical  form.  Although 
the  context  even  here  implies  that  it  must  have  been  a  free 
effusion,  yet  it  is  probable  that  the  Apostle  is  speaking  of  the 
Eucharistic  thanksgiving  for  the  produce  of  the  earth ;  such 
as  was  from  a  very  early  period  incorporated  in  the  great 
Eucharistic  hymn  used,  with  a  few  modifications,  through  all 
the  liturgical  forms  of  the  later  Christian  Church.  And  from 
this  passage  we  learn  that  the  "  Amen,"  or  ratification  of  the 
whole  congregation,  afterwards  regarded  with  peculiar  so- 
lemnity in  this  part  of  the  service,  was  deemed  essential  to 
the  due  utterance  of  the  thanksgiving. 

(4.)  "  Prophesying,"  or  "  teaching,"  is  regarded  (not  by  the 
Corinthians,  but)  by  the  Apostle  as  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant objects  of  their  assemblies.  The  impulse  to  exercise  this 
gift  appears  to  have  been  so  strong  as  to  render  it  difiicult  to 
be  kept  under  control.*  Women,  it  would  seem  from  the 
Apostle's  allusion  to  the  practice  in  xi.  5,  and  prohibition  of  it 
in  xiv.  34,  35,  had  felt  themselves  entitled  to  speak.  The 
Apostle  rests  his  prohibition  on  the  general  ground  of  the 
subordination  of  women  to  their  natural  instructors,  their 
husbands. 

Thirdly.  The  Apostolical  mode  of  administering  the  Eu- 
charist has  already  been  delineated  at  the  close  of  chap.  xi. 
It  is  enough  here  to  recapitulate  its  main  features.  It  was 
part  of  the  chief  daily  meal,  and,  as  such,  usually  in  the 
evening ;  the  bread  and  wine  were  brought  by  the  contribu- 
tors to  the  meal,  and  placed  on  a  table  ;  of  this  meal  each  one 
partook  himself;  the  bread  was  placed  on  the  table  as  a  loaf, 
and  then  broken  into  parts ;  the  wine  was  given  at  the  cop- 
elusion  of  the  meal ;  a  hymn  of  thanksgiving  was  offered  by 
one  of  the  congregation,  to  which  the  rest  responded  with  the 
solemn  word  "  Amen." 

These  points  are  all  that  we  can  clearly  discern  in  the 
worship  of  Apostolic  times,  with  the  addition  perhaps  of  the 
fact  mentioned  in  Acts  xx.  7,  and  confirmed  by  1  Cor.  xvi.  2, 

*  xiv.  32 


440  APOSTOLICAL    WORSHIP. 

that  the  first  day  of  the  week  was  specially  devoted  to  their 
meetings. 

The  total  dissimilarity  between  the  outward  aspects  of  this 
worship  and  of  any  wliich  now  exists,  is  the  first  impression 
which  this  summary  leaves  on  the  mind.  It  would  seem  at 
first  sight  as  if  almost  every  veslige  of  the  Apostolic  forma 
was  gone,  and  as  if  the  present  forms  had  no  basis  in  that 
age  on  which  to  ground  themselves.  But  this  impression  is 
reheved  by  various  important  considerations.  First,  when 
we  consider  the  state  of  the  Apostolic  Church  as  described  in 
the  Acts  and  in  this  Epistle,  it  is  evident  that  in  outward  cir- 
cumstances it  never  could  be  a  pattern  for  future  times.  The 
fervor  of  the  individuals  who  constituted  the  communities,  the 
smallness  of  the  communities  themselves,  the  variety  and 
power  of  the  gifts,  the  expectation  of  the  near  approach  of 
the  end  of  the  world,  must  have  prevented  the  perpetuation 
of  the  Apostolic  forms.  But  if  Christianity  be,  as  almost 
every  precept  of  its  Founder  and  of  its  chief  Apostle  pre- 
sumes it  to  be,  a  religion  of  the  spirit,  and  not  of  the  letter, 
then  this  very  peculiarity  is  one  of  its  most  characteristic 
privileges.  No  existing  form  of  worship  can  lay  claim  to 
universal  and  etenial  obligation,  as  directly  traceable  to  Apos- 
tolic times.  The  impossibility  of  perpetuating  the  primitive 
forms  is  the  best  guarantee  for  future  freedom  and  progress. 
Few  as  are  the  rules  of  worship  prescribed  in  the  Koran,  yet 
the  inconvenience  which  they  present,  when  transplanted 
into  other  than  Oriental  regions,  shows  the  importance  of  the 
omission  of  such  in  the  New  Testament. 

But,  secondly,  there  are  in  the  forms  themselves,  and  in 
the  spirit  in  which  the  Apostle  handles  them,  principles  im- 
portant for  the  guidance  of  Christian  worship  in  all  times. 
Some  of  tliese  have  been  already  indicated.  In  this  la.<t  con- 
cluding Section,  the  whole  of  liiis  advice  is  summed  up  in 
two  simple  rules :  ''  Let  all  things  be  done  unto  edifying,"  and 
"  let  all  things  be  done  decently  and  in  order." 

"  JM  all  things  he  done  unto  edify Ing." 

"  Edifying "  (oiVofio/i?/)  has,  as  already  noticed  in  xiv.  89 


APOSTOLICAL    WORSHIP.  441 

the  peculiar  sense  both  of  building  up  from  first  principles  to 
their  practical  application,  and  of  fitting  each  member  of  the 
society  into  the  proper  place  which  the  growth  and  rise  of  the 
whole  building  require.  It  is  "  development,"  not  only  in 
the  sense  of  unfolding  new  truth,  but  of  unfolding  all  the 
resources  contained  in  the  existing  institution  or  body.  Hence 
the  stress  laid  on  the  excellence  of  "prophesying,"  as  the 
special  gift  by  which  men  were  led  to  know  themselves  (as 
ill  xiv.  24,  25,  "  the  secrets  of  their  hearts  being  made  mani- 
fest"), and  by  which  (as  through  the  prophets  of  the  older 
dispensations)  higher  and  more  spiritual  views  of  life  were 
gradually  revealed.  Hence  the  repeated  injunctions  that 
all  the  gifts  should  have  their  proper  honor ;  *  that  those 
gifts  should  be  most  honored  by  which  not  a  few,  but  all, 
should  benefit  ;t  that  all  who  had  the  gift  of  prophecy 
should  have  the  opportunity  of  exercising  that  gift ;  \  that  all 
might  have  an  equal  chance  of  instruction  and  comfort  for 
their  own  special  cases. 

"  Let  all  things  be  done  decently  and  in  order.''  § 
"  Decently  "  {flaxy) t^ovas)  '■>  ^^^^^  ^S'  ^^  ^^  not  to  interrupt  the 
gravity  and  dignity  of  the  assemblies.  "  In  order "  (jcarh 
TCL^Lv)  ;  that  is,  not  by  hazard  or  impulse,  but  by  design  and 
arrangement.  The  idea  is  not  so  much  of  any  beauty  or 
succession  of  parts  in  the  worship,  as  of  that  severe  and 
simple  majesty  which  in  the  ancient  world,  whether  Pagan  or 
Jewish,  seems  to  have  characterized  all  solemn  assemblies, 
civil  or  ecclesiastical,  as  distinct  from  the  frantic  or  enthu- 
siastic ceremonies  which  accompanied  illicit  or  extravagant 
communities.  The  Roman  Senate,  the  Athenian  Areopagus, 
were  examples  of  the  former,  as  the  wild  BacchanaHan  or 
Phrygian  orgies  were  of  the  latter.  It  is  to  impress  this 
character  on  Christian  worship,  that  the  Apostle  has  con- 
demned the  rejection  by  the  women  of  the  Greek  custom  of 
the  veil,  ||  the  spgaking  of  women  in  the  assemblies,^  the  in- 

*  xii.  20  -  30.  t  xiv.  1-23.  }  xiv.  29  -  31. 

«  xiv.  40.  II  xi.  1.-16.  t  xix.  34. 


442  APOSTOLICAL    "WORSHIP. 

discriminate  banqueting  at  the  Lord's  Supper,*  the  interrup. 
tion  of  the  prophets  by  each  other,  f  "  The  spirits  of  prophets 
are  subject  to  prophets,"  is  a  principle  of  universal  applica- 
tion, and  condemns  every  impulse  of  religious  zeal  or  feeling 
which  is  not  strictly  under  the  control  of  those  mIio  display 
it.  A  world  of  fanaticism  is  exploded  by  this  simple  axiom ; 
and  to  those  who  have  witnessed  the  religious  frenzy  which 
attaches  itself  to  the  various  forms  of  Eastern  worship,  this 
advice  of  the  Apostle,  himself  of  Eastern  origin,  will  appear 
the  more  remarkable.  The  wild  gambols,  yearly  celebrated 
at  Easter  by  the  adherents  of  the  Greek  Church  round  the 
chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem,  show  what 
Eastern  Christianity  may  become ;  they  are  living  proofs  of 
the  need  and  the  wisdom  of  the  Apostolical  precept. 

To  examine  how  far  these  two  regulations  have  actually 
affected  the  subsequent  worship  and  ritual  of  Christianity,  to 
metisure  each  Christian  liturgy  and  form  of  worship  by  one 
or  other  of  these  two  rules,  would  be  an  instructive  task. 
But  it  is  sufficient  here  to  notice,  that  on  these  two  points 
tha  AxK)stle  throws  the  whole  weight  of  his  authority ;  these 
two,  'uid  these  only,  are  the  Rubrics  of  the  Primitive  Church. 

A  xL  16 -34.  t  xiv.  30-32. 


THE     EUCHARIST. 

By  Rev.  ARTHUR  P.   STANLEY. 

1  Cor.  xi.  16-34. 

It  has  been  truly  said,  though  with  some  exaggeration,  that 
for  many  centuries  the  history  of  the  Eucharist  might  be  con- 
sidered as  a  history  of  the  Christian  Church.  And  certainly 
this  passage  may.  be  regarded  as  occupying  in  that  history, 
whether  in  its  narrower  or  larger  sphere,  a  point  of  remarkable 
significance.  On  the  one  hand,  we  may  take  our  stand  upon 
it,  and  look  back  through  its  medium,  on  some  of  the  institu- 
tions and  feelings  most  peculiar  to  the  first  commencement  of 
the  Apostolic  age.  We  see  the  most  sacred  ordinance  of  the 
Christian  religion  as  it  was  celebrated  by  those  in  whose 
minds  the  earthly  and  the  heavenly,  the  social  and  the  relig- 
ious aspect  of  life  were  indistinguishably  blended.  We  see 
the  banquet  spread  in  the  late  evening,  after  the  sun  had  set 
behind  the  western  ridge  of  the  hills  of  Achaia ;  we  see  the 
many  torches  *  blazing,  as  at  Troas,  to  light  up  the  darkness 
of  the  upper  room,  where,  as  was  their  wont,  the  Christian 
community  assembled ;  we  see  the  couches  laid  and  the  walls 
hung,t  after  the  manner  of  the  East,  as  on  the  night  of  the 
betrayal ;  we  see  J  the  sacred  loaf,  representing,  in  its  com- 
pact unity,  the  harmony  of  the  whole  society ;  we  hear  the 
blessing  or  thanksgiving  on  the  cup§  responded  to  by  the 
joint  "  Amen,"  such  as  even  three  centuries  later  is  described 
as  like  a  peal  of  thunder ;  we  witness  the  complete  reahza- 

*  Xa/A7raSes  iKaval,  Acts  xx.  8.      t  virepaov  iarpaifjiivov,  Matt  xxvL 
I  1  Cor.x.  17;  xi.  29.  ^  x.  3l'. 


444  THE    EUCHAKIST. 

tion,  in  outward  form,  of  the  Apostle's  words,  suggested 
doubtless  by  the  sight  of  the  meal  and  the  sacrament  blended 
thus  together,  "  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  ye 
do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God."*  "Whatsoever  ye  do  in 
word  or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  giving 
thanks  to  God  and  the  Father  by  him."  f 

This  is  one  side  of  the  picture ;  but  there  is  another  side, 
which  is  exhibited  here  also,  and  which  imparts  to  this 
passage  its  peculiar  interest.  Already  the  difficulties  of 
bringing  an  ideal  and  an  actual  life  together  make  themselves 
felt.  What  the  falsehoods  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  were  to 
the  community  of  property  at  Jerusalem,  that  the  excesses 
and  disorders  of  the  Corinthian  Christians  were  to  the  primi- 
tive celebration  of  the  Eucharist.  The  time  was  come,  when 
the  secuL'ir  and  the  si)iritual  had  to  be  disentangled  one  from 
the  other ;  the  "  simplicity  "  and  "  gladness  "  of  the  fii-st  Apos- 
tolical communion  was  gradually  to  retire  before  the  Apos- 
tolical rebuke.  The  question  arose  whether  the  majesty,  the 
tenderness,  the  awe  of  the  feast  should  be  lost  in  a  senseless 
orgy,  and  it  is  (humanly  speaking)  by  means  of  this  verdict 
of  the  Apostle  against  the  Corinthian  church,  that  the  form 
of  the  primitive  practice  was  altered,  in  order  to  save  the 
spirit  of  the  original  institution.  It  is  of  the  more  impor- 
tance to  remember  the  extent  of  the  danger  to  which  the 
celebration  of  the  Eucharist  was  then  exposed;  because  a 
great  part  of  its  subsequent  liistory  would  seem  to  be  a 
reaction,  in  part  just,  in  part  exaggerated,  agiiinst  the  corrup- 
tion which  then  threatened  it ;  a  reaction  encouraged  by  the 
extreme  severity  with  which  that  corruption  is  denounced  by 

*  Col.  iii.  17. 

t  Perhaps  the  ncnrcst  likeness  now  existing,  to  tliis  union  of  social 
intercourse  with  religious  worship,  is  to  be  found  in  the  services  of  the 
Coptic  Church.  The  Eucharist  indeed  is  even  mooe  divested  of  its  cliar- 
acter  of  a  supper,  tlmn  in  the  Western  Churches.  But  tlicre  is  an  air  of 
primitive  freedom,  and  of  innocent  enjoyment,  blended  with  the  prayers 
of  the  general  sen'ice,  which,  bearing  as  it  does  tlie  marks  of  long  an- 
tiquity, conveyed  to  mc,  on  the  one  occasion  on  which  I  witnessed  tho 
worship  of  the  Copts  in  their  cathedral  at  Cairo,  a  livelier  imago  of  the 
early  Christian  assemblies  than  anything  else  I  ever  saw. 


THE    EUCHARIST.  445 

tlie  Apostle,  and  which  was  itself  called  forth  by  the  great- 
ness of  the  crisis.  This  is  the  last  mention  of  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  Lord's  Supper,  according  to  the  ancient  fashion  ; 
the  "  Supper  '*  itself  had  ceased  to  be  a  supper,  as  early  as 
the  beginning  of  the  first  century,  as  we  learn  from  the 
Epistles  of  the  younger  Pliny  ;  *  and  was  celebrated,  if  not 
very  early  in  the  morning,  at  least  before  the  night,  although 
in  some  Egyptian  cities  the  practice  of  partaking  of  it  on  the 
evenings  of  Saturday  still  continued  in  the  fourth  century.f 
The  social  meal  was  divided  from  it  under  the  name  of 
"  Agape,"  or  "  Love-feast,"  but  still  continued  to  be  cele- 
brated within  the  walls  of  churches  as  late  as  the  iifth  cen- 
tury, after  which  it  disappears,  having  been  already  con- 
demned by  councils  on  account  of  abuses  similar  to  those 
here  described  at  Corinth.  J  Thus  the  Eucharist  became 
more  and  more  set  apart  as  a  distinct  sacred  ordinance ;  it 
withdrew  more  and  more  from  the  possibiHty  of  the  Corin- 
thian desecration,  till  at  last  it  was  wrapt  up  in  the  awful 
mystery  which  has  attached  to  it,  in  the  highest  degree,  in 
the  churches  of  the  East,  but  in  some  degree  in  the  churches 
of  the  West  also,  both  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic 
Beginning  under  the  simple  name  of  "  the  breaking  of  bread," 
and  known  from  this  Epistle  by  the  social  and  almost  festive 
appellations  of  "  the  Communion,"  and  "  the  Lord's  Supper," 
it  first  receives  in  Pliny  the  name  of  "  Sacramentum,"  and  in 
Justin  Martyr  that  of  "  Eucharistia  "  ;  both,  indeed,  indicating 
ideas  of  strictly  Apostolical  origin,  though  more  closely  con- 
nected with  the  words,  and  less  with  the  act,  than  would  have 
been  the  case  in  the  first  Apostolical  times ;  till  in  the  days 
of  Chrysostom  it  presents  itself  to  us  under  the  formidable 
name  of  the  "  Dreadful  Sacrifice." 

These  two  views  of  the  Lord's  Supper  have  been  thus 
set  forth  in  this  place  side  by  side  ;  because,  as  has  been 
said,  they  both  to  a  certain  extent  appear  together  in  this 
chapter.     A  careful  investigation    of  the  passage  will  prob- 

*  X.  97.  t  Sozomen,  A.  E.  vii.  19 

X  Bingham's  Antiquities,  Book  XV.  ch.  7. 
38 


446  THE   EUCHARIST. 

ably  lead  to  the  conclusion,  that  as,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
general  view  of  the  Apostolical  practice,  its  simplicity,  and 
its  festivity,  as  implied  in  the  Apostle's  arguments  and  in 
his  designation  of  the  ordinance,  have  been  in  later  times 
too  much  underrated ;  so,  on  the  other  hand,  the  severity 
of  his  denunciation  against  unworthy  partakers  has  been  too 
generally  and  too  rigorously  enforced;  because  the  partic- 
ular object,  and  the  particular  need  of  his  rebuke  at  that 
time,  have  not  been  clearly  understood.  The  Holy  Com- 
munion can  never  be  again  exactly  what  it  was  then  ;  and 
therefore,  although  his  words  will  always  impart  to  the  great 
ordinance  of  Christian  worship  a  peculiar  solemnity,  yet 
the  real  lesson  which  they  convey  relates  now  more  di- 
rectly to  such  general  occasions  as  that  out  of  which  his 
vrarning  grew,  than  to  the  ordinance  itself.  The  joy  and 
almost  merriment  of  the  first  Christian  converts  after  the 
day  of  Pentecost  could  not  now  be  applied  to  the  Eucha- 
rist as  it  was  then,  without  fear  of  great  profaneness  and 
levity.  But  the  record  of  it  implies  that  with  a  serious  and 
religious  life  generally  there  is  nothing  incompatible  in  the 
freest  play  of  cheerful  and  innocent  gayety.  Jn  like  manner, 
although  we  cannot  without  superstition  imagine  that  the 
judgments  which  the  Apostle  denounced  will  fall  on  a  dese- 
cration of  the  Communion  ditferent  in  all  its  circumstances 
from  that  which  occurred  at  Corinth,  yet  there  may  still 
be  an  irreverence  towards  sacred  things,  a  want  of  broth- 
erly kindness,  a  dulness  in  discerning  the  presence  of  Christ, 
even  in  our  common  meals,  which  may  make  us  fear  "  lest 
we  eat  and  drink  condemnation  to  ourselves."  And  in  the 
Communion  itjself  the  Apostle's  words  are  instructive,  as 
reminding  us  that  "  the  body  of  the  Lord,"  to  which  he 
looked,  was,  as  elsewhere  in  his  writings,  so  here,  the  bo<ly 
which  is  represented  by  the  whole  Christian  society.  So 
the  Apostle  conceives  it  to  be  in  all  times  and  places,  and 
not  least  in  the  institution  especially  intended  to  exhibit  the 
unity  and  community  of  interests,  feelings,  and  affections,  to 
produce  which  is  always  described  as  one  chief  purpose  of 
the  Death  of  Christ,  shown  forth  in  the  Lord's  Supper. 


UNITY  AND  VARIETY  OF  SPIRITUAL  GIFTS* 

By  Kev.  ARTHUR  P.  STANLEY. 
1  Cor.  ch.  xii. 

The  historical  value  of  this  chapter  has  been  sufficiently 
set  forth  in  the  notes.  It  is  the  most  detailed  contemporary 
record  of  the  extraordinary  powers  which  manifested  them- 
selves in  the  Christian  society  during  the  first  century ;  and 
which,  however  they  may  be  explained,  confirm  the  narra- 
tive in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  illustrate  that  in  the 
four  Gospels,  especially  the  statement  in  Mark  xvi.  17-20: 
"  They  went  forth,  and  preached  everywhere,  the  Lord  work- 
ing with  them,  and  confirming  the  word  with  signs  following  " ; 
that  is,  "  casting  out  devils,  speaking  with  tongues,  taking  up 
serpents,  drinking  poison  without  hurt,  and  laying  hands  on 
the  sick  for  their  recovery."  They  resolve  themselves  into 
two  classes :  (1.)  Those  which  relate  to  healing  exactly  cor- 
respond with  the  description  of  the  miracles  of  Peter  and 
John,*  and  with  the  allusion  in  James  v.  14,  15 :  "Is  any 
sick  among  you  ?  let  him  call  for  the  elders  of  the  church ; 
and  let  them  pray  over  him,  anointing  him  with  oil  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord :  and  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the 
sick,  and  the  Lord  shall  raise  him  up.'  (2.)  The  gifts  of 
teaching  which  are  here  classed  under  the  names  of  "  proph- 
ets," "  teachers,"  "  knowledge,"  "  wisdom."  are  implied  rather 
than  expressly  claimed  in  the  authority  which  the  narrative 

*  Acts  iii.  1  -  10 ;  V.  12  -  16  ;  ix.  33  -  42. 


448  UNITY   AND    VARIETY    OF    SPIRITUAL    GIFTS. 

of  the  Acts  ascribes  to  the  numerous  speeches  of  the  Apos- 
tles. But  to  gifts  of  this  kind  allusions  are  expressly  made 
in  the  intimations  in  Matt.  x.  20,  John  xvi.  13,  of  *'the  Spirit 
fipeaking  in  the  disciples,"  and  "  guiding  them  into  all  truth." 
And  to  the  same  effect  are  the  passages  in  Rom.  xii.  6-8: 
"  Having  then  gifts  differing  according  to  the  grace  that  is 
given  to  us,  whether  prophecy,  let  us  prophesy  according  lo 
the  proportion  of  faith ;  ....  or  he  that  teacheth,  let  him 
wait  on  teaching,  or  he  that  exhorteth,  on  exhortation."    Eph. 

iv.  7,  11  :  "  Unto  every  one  of  us  is  given  grace He 

gave  some,  apostles ;  and  some,  prophets ;  and  some,  evan- 
gelists; and  some,  pastors  and  teachers."  1  Pet.  iv.  10,  11: 
"  As  every  man  hath  received  the  gift,  even  so  minister  the 

same  one  to  another If  any  man  speak,  as  the  oracles 

of  God."  The  Apostle  seems  to  claim  this  gift  for  himself, 
both  by  implication  in  all  his  Epistles,  and  expressly  in  1  Cor. 
vii.  40 :  "  I  think  that  I  also  (i.  e.  as  well  as  others)  have  the 
Spirit  of  God."  Of  the  special  gifts  of  prophesying,  and  of 
speaking  with  tongues,  there  will  be  another  occasion  to  speak 
in  considering  the  fourteenth  chapter.  It  is  in  the  highest 
development  of  these  various  forms  of  the  gift  of  teaching, 
that  we  find  the  only  direct  traces  of  what  in  modern  lan- 
guage is  called  "  inspiration  " ;  and  although  the  limits  of  such 
a  gift,  and  the  persons  in  whom  it  existed,  are  never  clearly 
defined,  the  description  of  it  is  important,  because,  unhke  the 
other  gifts,  its  results  can  still  be  appreciated.  We  cannot 
judge  of  the  gifts  of  healing;  their  effects  have  long  since 
passed  away.  But  we  can  judge  of  the  gift  of  teaching  by 
the  remains  which  it  has  left  in  the  writings  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament; and  these  remains  incontestably  prove  that  there 
was  at  that  time  given  to  men  an  extraordinary  insight  into 
truth,  and  an  extraordinary  power  of  communicating  it. 

It  is  important  to  observe,  that  these  multiplied  allusions 
imply  a  state  of  things  in  the  Apostolical  age,  which  has 
certainly  not  been  seen  since.  On  particular  occasions,  in- 
deed, both  in  the  fii*st  four  centurif  iJ,  and  afterwards  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  miracles  are  ascribed  by  contemporary  writers 


UNITY   AND    VARIETY    OF    SPIRITUAL    GIFTS.  449 

to  the  influence  or  the  relics  of  particular  individuals  but 
there  has  been  no  occasion  when  they  have  been  so  emphati- 
cally ascribed  to  whole  societies,  so  closely  mixed  up  with  the 
ordinary  course  of  life.  It  is  not  maintained  that  every  mem- 
ber of  the  Corinthian  church  had  all  or  the  greater  part  of 
those  gifts,  but  it  certainly  appears  that  every  one  had  some 
gift ;  and  this  being  the  case,  we  are  enabled  to  realize  the 
total  difference  of  the  organization  of  the  Apostolical  Church 
from  any  through  which  it  has  passed  in  its  later  stages.  It 
was  still  in  a  state  of  fusion.  Every  part  of  the  new  society 
was  instinct  with  a  life  of  its  own.  The  whole  atmosphere 
which  it  breathed  must  have  confirmed  the  belief  in  the  im- 
portance and  the  novelty  of  the  crisis. 

But  yet  more  remarkable,  both  as  a  proof  of  the  Divine 
power  and  wisdom  which  accompanied  this  whole  manifesta- 
tion, and  also  as  affording  a  lesson  to  after  times,  is  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  Apostle  approaches  the  subject,  and  the 
inference  which  he  draws  from  it.  His  object  in  enumerat- 
ing these  gifts  is,  not  to  enlarge  on  their  importance,  or  to 
appeal  to  them  as  evidences  of  the  Christian  faith ;  it  is  to 
urge  upon  his  readers  the  necessity  of  co-operation  for  some 
useful  purpose.  Such  a  thought  at  such  a  moment  is  emi- 
nently characteristic  of  the  soberness  and  calmness  which 
pervade  the  Apostle's  writings,  and  affords  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  fiinatical  feeling  which  regards  all  miracles  as  ends  and 
not  as  means ;  and  which  despises,  as  alien  and  uncongenial, 
the  ideas  of  co-operation,  subordination,  and  order. 

This  chapter  has  a  yet  further  interest.  It  is  the  intro- 
duction of  a  new  idea  into  the  Sacred  Volume.  It  has  been 
truly  observed,  that  the  great  glory  of  the  Mosaic  covenant 
was,  not  so  much  the  revelation  of  a  truth  before  unknown, 
as  the  communication  of  that  truth  to  a  whole  people,  —  the 
first  and  only  exception  which  the  Eastern  world  presented  to 
the  spirit  of  caste  and  exclusion.  But  even  in  the  chosen 
people  this  universal  sympathy  with  each  other,  and  with  the 
common  objects  of  the  nation,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 
been  fulfilled  as  it  was  intended. 
38* 


450  UNITY    AND    VARIETY    OF    SPIRITUAL    GIFTS. 

The  idea  of  a  whole  community  swayed  by  a  common 
feelino:  of  interest  and  affection,  was  not  Asiatic,  but  Euro- 
pean.  It  was  Greece,  and  not  Judaea,  which  first  presented 
the  sight  of  a  rroXi?  or  state,  in  which  every  citizen  had  his 
own  political  and  social  duties,  and  lived,  not  for  himself,  but 
for  the  state.  It  was  a  Roman  fable,  and  not  an  Eastern 
parable,  which  gave  to  the  world  the  image  of  a  "  body 
politic,"  in  which  the  welfare  of  each  member  depended  on 
the  welfare  of  the  rest.  And  it  is  precisely  this  thought 
which,  whether  in  conscious  or  unconscious  imitation,  was 
suggested  to  the  Apostle,  by  the  sight  of  the  manifold  and 
various  gifts  of  the  Christian  community. 

The  image  of  the  Christian  Church,  which  the  Apostle 
here  exhibits,  is  that  of  a  living  society  in  which  the  various 
faculties  of  the  various  members  were  to  perform  their  sev- 
eral parts,  —  riot  an  inert  mass  of  mere  learners  and  subjects, 
who  were  to  be  authoritatively  taught  and  ruled  by  one  small 
portion  of  its  members.  It  is  a  Christianization,  not  of  the 
Levitical  hierarchy,  but  of  the  republic  of  Plato.  It  has 
become  in  after  times  the  basis,  not  of  treatises  on  church 
government,  but  of  Butler's  Sermons  on  the  general  constitu- 
tion of  human  nature  and  of  human  society.  The  principle 
of  co-operation,  as  generally  acknowledged  in  the  economical 
and  physical  well-being  of  man,  was  here  to  be  applied  to 
his  moral  and  spiritual  improvement.  The  peculiar  element, 
which  the  Apostle  blends  with  this  general  idea  of  social  and 
moral  union,  is  that  which  could  only  be  given  by  the  Chris- 
tian faith.  There  would  always  be  the  fear  lest  an  object 
so  high  and  abstract  as  the  promotion  of  man's  moral  welfare 
might  seem  indistinct,  and  be  lost  in  the  distance.  Something 
nearer  and  more  personal  was  required  to  be  mixed  up  with 
that  which  wjw  indistinct  from  its  very  vastness.  The  direct 
object,  therefore,  of  Christian  co-operation,  according  to  3t« 
Paul,  was  to  bring  Christ  into  every  part  of  common  life,  to 
make  human  society  one  living  body,  closely  joined  in  com- 
munion with  Christ.  And  lest  this  comparison  of  the  Church 
with  the  human  body  might  in  one  respect  lead  to  error, 


UNITY    AND    VARIETY    OF    SPIRITUAL    GIFTS.  451 

because  there  resides  such  a  sovereignty  in  the  brain  or  liead, 
that  in  comparison  of  its  great  activity  some  of  the  other 
members  may  be  called  passive;  therefore  the  functions  of 
the  head  in  the  Christian  Church  are  by  the  Apostle  assigned 
exclusively  to  Christ  himself* 

This  idea  of  the  Christian  community  in  the  Apostolical 
age  was  kept  up,  not  only  by  the  universal  diffusion  of  the 
spiritual  gifts,  but  by  all  the  outward  institutions  of  the 
Church ;  by  the  primitive  mode,  as  already  described,  of 
celebrating  the  Lord's  Supper ;  by  the  co-operation  of  the 
whole  community  in  the  expulsion  or  restoration  of  offend- 
ers ;  by  the  absence,  as  would  appear  from  this  chapter,  of 
any  definite  form  of  government  or  constitution  ;  and,  in  the 
church  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  community  of  property. 

Of  these  institutions  most,  if  not  all,  even  before  the  ter- 
mination of  the  Apostolical  age,  had  been  either  greatly 
modified  or  had  ceased  to  exist ;  and  the  gifts,  from  which 
the  institutions  derived  their  Hfe  and  spirit,  had,  as  the 
Apostle  himself  anticipated,  almost,  if  not  altogether,  van- 
ished away.  But  the  general  truth  which  their  existence 
suggested  to  the  Apostle  is  still  applicable  to  the  natural  gifts 
which  constitute  the  variety  of  all  civilized  society. 

If  Christ  be  truly  Lord  of  all,  if  to  him  have  truly  been 
committed  all  things  both  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  then  we 
may  trace  his  hand,  not  only  in  the  extraordinary  and  super- 
natural, but  in  the  ordinary  and  natural  gifts  of  men ;  the 
earliest  form  of  the  Christian  society  was,  as  it  were,  a  micro- 
cosm of  the  world  at  large ;  what  was  supplied  to  it  in  its 
first  stage  by  miraculous  intervention,  is  to  be  sought  for  now 
in  the  various  faculties  and  feelings  which  it  has  compre- 
hended within  its  sphere.  And  therefore  it  is  truly  a  part  of 
Christian  edification  to  apply  what  St.  Paul  and  St.  Peter  f 

*  For  this  whole  subject  of  the  idea  of  the  early  Church  and  its  rela- 
tions to  the  institutions  of  later  times,  I  cannot  forbear  to  refer  to  the  in- 
structive passages  in  Arnold's  Fragment  on  the  Church,  pp.  149,  150. 

t  Rom.  xii.  6-8;  1  Cor.  xii.  28;  1  Pet.  iv.  10,  11.  See  Arnold's 
Sermons,  Vol  II.  217  ;  VI.  300. 


452  UNITY   AND    VARIETY    OF    SPIRITUAL    GIFTS. 

have  said  of  the  diversity  and  relative  importance  and  final 
cause  of  the  first  extraordinary  display  of  the  gifts  of  the 
Spirit,  to  the  analogous  variety  of  the  gifts  of  imagination, 
reasoning  powers,  thought,  activity,  means  of  beneficence. 
Variety  and  complexity  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  civili- 
zation ;  and  it  is  one  of  the  many  indications  of  the  new 
birth  of  the  world  involved  in  the  introduction  of  the  Gospel, 
that  these  very  same  qualities,  by  which  human  society  is 
now  carried  on  in  nations  and  in  churches,  should  thus  appear 
impressed  on  the  face  of  prunitive  Christianity. 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES   AND  THE   GIFT  OF 
PEOPHESYING. 

By   Ret.  ARTHUR  P.  STANLEY. 
1  Cor.  xiv.  1-40. 

The  Apostle  now  arrives  at  the  point  to  which  his  argu- 
ment on  the  spiritual  gifts  has  throughout  been  converging,  — 
the  special  tendency  of  the  Corinthian  church  to  exaggerate 
the  importance  of  the  gift  of  tongues  in  comparison  of  the 
less  extraordinary,  but  more  useful,  gift  of  prophesying.  It 
becomes  necessary,  therefore,  to  form  some  general  notion  of 
the  nature  of  these  gifts  and  their  relation  to  each  other. 

(1.)  The  gift  of  "  prophesying "  or  of  "  the  prophets." 
The  word  "prophet"  (npocfyfjTTjs)  is  derived  in  the  first  in- 
stance from  the  interpreters  of  the  pagan  oracles,  who  spoke 
forth  or  expounded  the  unintelligible  answers  of  the  Pytho- 
ness of  Delphi,  or  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  of  Dodona.  In 
a  metaphorical  sense  it  is  used  of  poets,  as  interpreters  of  the 
Gods  or  Muses.  It  was  then  adopted  by  the  LXX.  as  the 
best  equivalent  of  the  "  nabi  "  or  "  seer  "  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. In  the  New  Testament  it  is  used  for  a  gift  which, 
though  in  many  respects  similar  to  that  of  the  older  covenant, 
was  a  revival,  rather  than  a  continuation,  of  the  ancient  pro- 
phetical office.  According  to  the  common  Jewish  tradition, 
prophecy  had  expired  M^ith  Malachi ;  and  there  is  no  recorded 
instance  of  it  between  his  time  and  the  Christian  era.  It  is 
true  that  the  application  of  the  name  to  the  Baptist  and  to 
Christ,  shows  that  the  appearance  of  a  prophet  was  not  a 


454      GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECY. 

thing  unlocked  for.*  Our  Lord  speaks  as  if  proverbially 
of  "  a  prophet  having  no  honor."  f  Zacharias  is  said  "  to 
prophesy."  I  Anna  is  said  to  be  "  a  prophetess."  §  But  the 
frequency  of  the  gift,  if  not  its  existence,  was  regarded  as  a 
special  sign  of  a  new  dispensation,  and  as  such  its  universal 
diffusion  is  described  at  the  day  of-  Pentecost.  "  Your  sons 
mad  your  daughters  shall  prophesy, ....  and  on  my  servants 
and  on  my  handmaidens  I  will  pour  out  ....  of  my  Spirit ; 
and  they  shall  prophesy."  ||  In  the  subsequent  narrative  of 
the  Acts,  prophets  and  prophetesses  ai*e  spoken  of  as  every- 
where to  be  found  in  Christian  congregations :  "  Then  came 

prophets  from  Jerusalem    unto   Antioch One  of  them 

named  Agabus  signified  by  the  Spirit  that  there  should  be 
great  dearth  throughout  all  the  world."  %  "  There  were  in 
the  church  that  was  at  Antioch  certain  prophets  and  teachers ; 
as  Barnabas,  and  Simeon  that  was  called  Niger,  and  Lucius 
of  Gyrene,  and  Manaen,  which  had  been  brought  up  with 
Herod  the  tetrarch,  and  Saul."  **  "  Judas  and  Silas  being 
prophets."  ft  At  Caesarea,  Philip  the  Evangelist  had  four 
daughters  "  which  did  prophesy."  H  In  all  the  P^pistles,  the 
gift  of  prophecy  occupies  a  conspicuous  place  in  all  enumera- 
tions of  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit.  The  Apocalypse  itself  is 
called  "  a  prophecy  "  ;  §§  and  "  the  spirit  of  prophecy,"  ||j|  and 
"  the  prophets  "  as  "  servants  of  God,"  and  "  witnesses,"  are 
of\en  mentioned  ITIF  as  in  the  Christian  Church.  Not  only 
does  this  wide-spread  appearance  and  variety  of  prophetical 
characters  agree  with  the  fact  of  its  general  diffusion  through 
the  whole  Corinthian  church,  but  the  meaning  is  subf^tantially 
the  same  in  all  the  cases  where  it  occurs.  Throughout  the 
New  Testament,  as  throughout  the  Old,  and,  it  may  be  added, 


♦  Matt.  xiv.  5  ;  xxi.  1 1  -  46  ;  Mark  xi.  32  ;  Luke  i.  76 ;  vii.  26,  28, 
39  ;  xiii.  33  ;  John  iv.  19  ;  ix.  17. 

t  Matt.  xiii.  57.          }  Luke  i.  67.  4  Lnko  ii.  36. 

II  Acts  ii.  17,  18.       1  11)1(1.  xi.  27,  28.  ♦♦  Ilml.  xiii.  1. 

tt  Ibid.  XV.  32.         }J  Ibid.  xxi.  9.  H  Kev.  i.  3  ;  xxii.  7, 10, 18 

llll  Ibid.  xix.  10. 

^H  Ibid.  xi.  3,  6,  10,  18 ;  xvi.  6 ;  xviii.  20,  24  ;  xxii.  6,  9. 


GIFTS  OP  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECY.      455 

in  the  use  of  the  Arabic  word  "  nabi "  in  the  Koran,  the 
prominent  idea  is,  not  that  of  prediction,  but  of  dehvering 
inspired  messages  of  warning,  exhortation,  and  instruction: 
and  the  general  object  of  the  gift,  as  elsewhere  implied,  is 
exactly  that  here  spoken  of:  building  up,  exhorting,  and  com- 
forting "  ;  *  "  convincing,  judging,  and  making  manifest  the 
secrets  of  the  heart."  f  The  ancient  classical  and  Hebrew 
sense  prevails  everywhere.  Epimenides  and  Mahomet,  on 
the  one  hand,  Elijah  and  Paul  on  the  other  hand,  are  called 
"  prophets,"  not  because  they  foretold  the  future,  but  because 
they  enlightened  the  present. 

(2.)  We  now  come  to  the  "  gift  of  tongues,"  which  is  a 
much  more  difficult  subject.  The  most  important  passages 
relating  to  it  are  those  contained  in  this  chapter,  and  the 
allusions  to  it  in  xii.  10,  28,  as  "divers  kinds  of  tongues" 
(ye'i/T;  yXajoraaJv),  and  xiii.  1  :  "  Though  I  speak  with  the 
tongues  of  men  and  of  angels."     To  these  we  must  add  Mark 

xvi.  17:  "These  signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe 

They  shall  speak  with  new  tongues"  (yXtoo-o-ais  \a\r)(rovo-i 
Kaivals).  There  are  also  the  descriptions  of  the  gift  at  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  Acts  ii.  3-21  ;  at  the  conversion  of  the 
twelve  disciples  of  John  the  Baptist,  Acts  xix.  6. 

It  is  nowhere  else  mentioned  by  name,  though  several 
other  passages  have  been  thought  to  contain  allusions  to  it. 
Luke  xxi.  15 :  "I  will  give  you  a  mouth  and  wisdom,  which 
all  your  adversaries  shall  not  be  able  to  gainsay."  Eph.  v. 
18 :  "  Be  not  drunk  with  wine  wherein  is  excess  (compare 
Acts  ii.  13)  :  but  be  filled  with  the  Spirit;  speaking  in  your- 
selves (XaXovifTfs  eavTots)  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs,  singing  and  making  melody  in  your  hearts  to  the 
Lord."  1  Thess.  v.  19:  "Quench  not  the  Spirit;  despise 
not  prophesyings."     1   Pet.  iv.    11:  "Each  one  as   he  has 

received  a  gift If  any  man  speak  (XaXel),  let  him  speak 

as  the  oracles  of  God." 

The  only  allusion  to  this  gift  as  still  existing  after  the 

*  Rev.  xiv.  3  t  Ibid.  xiv.  25. 


456      GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECT. 

Apostolic  times,  is  in  Irenoeus  adv.  Haer.  vi.  6 :  "  We  hear 
many  brethren  in  the  Church,  having  prophetical  gifts,  and 
by  the  Spirit  speaking  in  all  kinds  of  languages."  Many 
speculations  occur  in  the  later  Fathers  on  the  subject ;  but 
their  historical  testimony  to  the  nature  of  the  gifts  may  all 
be  summed  up  in  one  sentence  of  Chrysostom,  in  his  com- 
ment on  this  chapter:  "  Tiiis  whole  place  is  very  obscure; 
but  the  obscurity  is  produced  by  our  ignorance  of  the  facta 
described,  which  are  such  as  then  used  to  occur,  but  now  no 
longer  take  place." 

Such  are  the  data  on  which  we  have  to  proceed.  The  fol- 
lov.ing  conclusions  maybe  attained  with  tolerable  certainty:  — 

First.  The  gift  in  question  is  always  described  as  some- 
thing entirely  new  in  the  Apostolical  age.  "  They  shall 
speak  with  new  tongues."  *  The  effect  on  the  spectatoi-s  at 
Pentecost  is  of  universal  bewilderment  and  astonishment.! 
It  is  described  as  the  special  mark  following  upon  conver- 
sion X  (whether  immediately  before  baptism,  §  or  immediately 
after  ||).  It  is,  moreover,  spoken  of  as  in  an  especial  man- 
ner a  gift  "  of  the  Spirit"  that  is,  the  new  manifestation  of 
God  in  the  hearts  of  Christians.  Hence  its  appearance  at 
the  day  of  Pentecost :  "  They  were  all  filled  with  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  began  to  speak  with  other  tongues  as  the  Spirit 
gave  them  utterance."  %  Hence  "  the  speaking  with  tongues  " 
was  the  sign  that  Cornelius  had  "  received  the  ffoli/  Spirit,**  ** 
Hence,  when  Paul  placed  his  hands  on  the  disciples  at  Ephe- 
sus,  "  the  JIoli/  Spirit  cjime  upon  them,  and  they  spake  with 
tongues."  tt  Hence  the  very  name  of  "  the  Spirit "  and 
"spiritual  gifts"  seems  to  have  been  appropriated  to  this  gifl, 
at  Corinth  and  elsewhere.  Compare  the  argument  in  xii. 
1-13,  and  the  particular  expressions  in  xiv.  1,  12,  14,  37; 
and  perhaps  1  Thess.  v.  19 ;  Eph.  v.  18. 

Secondly.  It  was  closely  connected  with  the  gift  of 
■     — ■^— — ^— — — ^— — ^— ^^-_^_^^.^^.^___^^_^__ 

♦  Mark  xvi  17.  t  Acts  ii.  7,  12.  t  Mark  \\±  17. 

\  Acta  X.  46.  II  Ihid.  xix.  6.  ^  Ibid.  ii.  4. 

♦♦  Ibid.  XX.  44,  46,  47.     tt  Ibid.  xix.  6. 


GIFTS    OF    TONGUES    AND    OF    PROPHECY.  457 

prophesying.  This  appears  not  only  from  these  chapters 
where  the  two  are  always  compared,  as  being,  though  differ- 
ent, yet  homogeneous,  in  xii.  10-28,  xiii.  1,  xiv.  1-6, 
22  -  25,  but  from  the  notices  in  the  Acts.  In  Acts  ii.  17  -  21, 
Peter,  in  his  justification  of  himself  and  the  Apostles,  de- 
scribes it  under  no  other  name  than  "  prophesying " ;  and  in 
Acts  xix.  6,  the  converts  are  described  "speaking  with 
tongues  and  prophesying."  To  the  same  effect  is  the  con- 
nection in  1  Thess.  v.  19,  where  "quench  not  the  Spirit"  is 
followed  by  "  de.'^pise  not  prophesyings." 

Thirdly.  Whilst  it  follows  from  what  has  been  said,  that 
this  gift,  like  that  of  prophesying,  must  have  been  a  posses- 
sion of  the  spirit  and  mind  of  the  speaker  by  an  extraor- 
dinary influence,  over  which  he  had  little  or  no  control,  it 
would  seem  that  its  especial  distinction  from  prophesying 
was,  that  it  consisted  not  of  direct  warning,  exhortation,  or 
prediction,  but  of  thanksgiving,  praise,  prayer,  singing,  and 
other  expressions  of  devotion:  "joray  with  the  tongue"; 
"  my  spirit  prays  "  ;  "  I  sing  in  the  spirit  "  ;  "  thou  givest 
thanks  {evXoyas)  in  the  Spirit."  *  "  We  hear  them  speaking 
the  tvonderful  works  of  God."  f  "  They  heard  them  speaking 
with  tongues,  and  magnifying  God."  %  And  this  is  illus- 
trated, if  not  confirmed,  by  Eph.  v.  19  :  "  Speaking  ....  in 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing  and  making 
melody  ....  to  the  Lord,  giving  thanks  always." 

Fourthly.  It  would  appear  that  these  expressions  of  devo- 
tion were  outpourings  of  the  heart  and  feelings,  rather  than 
of  the  uYiderstanding ;  so  that  the  actual  words  and  meaning 
were  almost  always  unintelligible  to  the  by-standers,  sometimes 
to  the  speakers  themselves.  "  He  that  speaketh  with  a 
tongue  speaketh  not  to  men,  hut  to  God;  for  no  one  hearetli; 
and  in  the  Spirit  he  speaketh  mysteries ;  ....  he  that  speak- 
eth with  a  tongue  edifieth  himself"  [and  not  the  ChurchJ.  § 
"  If  I  come  to  you  speaking  with  tongues,  what  shall  I  profit 

*  1  Cor.  xiv.  13  -  16.  t  Acts  ii.  11. 

X  Ibid.  X.  46.  i  1  Cor.  xiv.  2,  4. 

39 


458       GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECT. 

you  ?  "  *  "  Let  him  that  speaketh  with  a  tongue  pray  that  be 
may  interpret."  f  "  If  I  pray  with  a  tongue,  my  spirit 
prayeth,  but  my  understanding  is  unfruitful."  J  "If  thou 
givest  thanks  in  the  spirit,  how  shall  he  that  filleth  the  place 
of  the  unlearned  say  Amen  to  thy  giving  of  thanks ;  for  he 
knoweth  not  what  thou  sayest." §  "I  had  rather  speak  five 
words  with  my  understanding,  that  I  may  instruct  others  also, 
than  ton  thousand  words  with  a  tongue."  ||  "  Making  melody 
in  your  hearts.^*  IT  To  the  same  effect  are  the  passages  which 
describe  the  impression  produced  on  by-standers :  "  If  all 
speak  with  tongues,  and  the  unlearned  or  unbelievers  come  in, 
will  they  not  say  that  ye  are  mad  ?  "  **  "  Others,  mocking, 
said,  They  are  full  of  new  wine  " ;  where,  though  the  words 
are  described  as  spoken  in  jest,  they  are  deemed  of  sufficient 
importance  to  be  refuted  by  Peter.ft  Compare  also  Eph.  v. 
19,  where  the  injunction  "  to  be  filled  with  the  Spirit"  and  tc 
"  speak  in  themselves,"  is  preceded  by  the  prohibition,  "  be 
not  filled  with  wine." 

Thus  far  there  is  no  difficulty  in  combining  the  several 
accounts.  It  is  sufficiently  clear  that  it  was  a  trance  or 
ecstasy,  which,  in  moments  of  great  religious  fervor,  espe- 
cially at  the  moment  of  conversion,  seized  the  early  believers ; 
and  that  this  fervor  vented  itself  in  expressions  of  thanks- 
giving, in  fragments  of  psalmody  or  hymnody  and  j)rayer, 
which  to  the  speaker  himself  conveyed  an  irresistible  sense 
of  communion  with  God,  and  to  the  by-stander  an  impression 
of  some  extraordinary  manifestation  of  power,  but  not  neces- 
sarily any  instruction  or  teaching,  and  sometimes  even  having 
the  appearance  of  wild  excitement,  like  that  of  madness  or 
intoxication.  It  was  the  most  emphatic  sign  to  each  individ- 
ual believer  that  a  power  mightier  than  his  own  was  come 
into  the  world ;  and  in  those  who,  like  the  Ajjostle  Paul, 
possessed  this  gift  in  a  high  degree,  "speaking  with  tongues 

*  1  Cor.  xiv.  6.  t  Ibid.  xiv.  13.  %  Ibid.  xiv.  U. 

S  r)id.  xiv.  16.  II  Ibid.  xiv.  19.  H  Eph.  v.  lU. 

•*  1  Cor.  xiv.  23.  tt  Acts  ii.  13-  15. 


GIFTS    OF   TONGUES    AND    OF   PROPHECY.  459 

more  than  they  all,"  *  it  is  easy  to  conceive  that,  when  com- 
bined with  the  other  more  remarkable  gifts  which  he  pos- 
sessed, it  would  form  a  fitting  mood  for  the  reception  of 
"  God's  secrets "  (fxvaTrjpia),^  and  of  "  unspeakable  words, 
which  it  is  not  lawful  for  man  to  utter,"  "  being  caught  into 
the  third  heaven,"  and  into  "  Paradise."  J  And  thus  the 
nearest  written  example  of  this  gift  is  that  exhibited  in  the 
abrupt  style  and  the  strange  visions  of  the  Apocalypse,  of 
which  the  author  describes  himself,  almost  in  the  words  of  St. 
Paul,  as  "  being  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's  day,"  and  "  hear- 
ing a  voice  as  of  a  trumpet,"  §  and  "  seeing  a  door  open  in 
heaven,"  and  "  a  throne  set  in  heaven,"  ||  and  seeing  "  the 
New  Jerusalem,"  "  the  river  of  life,"  and  "  the  tree  of  life."  If 
But  a  ditficulty  arises  when  we  ask,  What  was  the  special 
form  which  these  outpourings  of  devotion  and  these  prophetic 
trances  assumed?  This  must  be  sought  in  the  names  by 
which  they  were  called:  (1.)  "Speaking  with  tongues'* 
(XaXfii/  yXoia-a-ais)  ;  **  "  speaking  with  a  tongue "  (kaXcov 
yXa)o-o-j/).tt  (2.)  "  The  tongues  "  (al  -yXoxro-ot),  H  "a  tongue" 
(yXo)o-o-ai/),  §§  "kinds  of  tongues"  (yevrj  yXaaaoov).  \\\\  (3.) 
"Speaking  with  other  tongues"  (\a\flv  ire  pais  y^waaais),*^^ 
"  speaking  with  new  tongues  "  (yXwo-o-ats  XaXrjaovcriv  Kaivals).*** 

The  use  of  the  word  "  tongue  "  (yXtoo-cra)  need  not  neces- 
sarily imply  a  distinct  language  of  a  nation.  The  only  occa- 
sions on  which  it  is  ever  so  used  in  the  New  Testament  are 
in  the  poetical  language  of  the  Apocalypse ;  ttt  i"  ^^1  which 
it  is  used  in  the  phrase  "  kindreds,  and  nations,  and  peoples, 
and  tongues,'*  as  is  the  corresponding  phrase  in  Dan.  iii.  4,  7, 
V.  19,  vi.  25;  Judith  iii.  8.     In  Gen.  xi.  7,  ttjv  y^oio-a-av  is 

*  1  Cor.  xiv.  18.  t  Ibid.  ii.  7  ;  iv.  1  ;  xiv.  2  ;  xv.  51. 

t  2  Cor.  xii.  4-6.  ^  Rev.  i.  9. 

II  Rev.  iv.  1.  ^  Rev.  xxi.  1  ;  xxii.  1,  2. 

**  1  Cor.  xiv.  5,  6,  23,  39 ;  Acts  x.  46  ;  xix.  6. 

It  1  Cor.  xiv.  2,  4,  13,  14,  18.  19,  27.  tt  I^d.  xiv.  22. 

§§  Ibid.  xiv.  26.  III!-  Ibid.  xii.  28. 

'tlT  Acts  ii.  4.  ***  Mark  xvi.  17. 

ttt  Rev.  V.  9 ;  vii.  9 ;  x.  11  ;  xi.  9 ;  xiii.  7 ;  xiv.  5 ;  xvii.  15. 


460  GIFTS    OF    TOXGUES    AND    OF    PROPHECT. 

used  in  the  phrase,  "  Let  us  confound  their  language,"  as  a 
translation  of  n3if',  which,  however,  in  all  other  places  in 
that  chapter  (verses  1,  7,  9)  is  translated  (fxoinj  or  xfi^cr.  The 
word  ordinarily  used,  in  sacred  as  in  classical  Greek,  for  "  the 
language  of  a  nation  or  country"  is  diaXcKTos,  as  in  Acts  i.  19, 
ii.  6,  8,  xxi.  40,  xxii.  2,  xxvi.  14.  We  may,  therefore,  con- 
clude that  the  word  "  tongue  "  (yXoxro-a)  was  applied  to  this 
spiritudl  gift,  partly  from  the  fact  that  the  word  in  classical 
Greek  was  naturally  applied  to  strange,  uncommon  expres- 
sions, as  in  Aristotle,*  partly  from  the  circumstance  that,  in 
the  use  of  this  gift,  "  the  tongue  *'  was  literally  the  organ  em- 
ployed, the  mind,  as  it  were,  remaining  passive,  whilst  the 
tongue  gave  utterance  to  words  of  which  the  speaker  was 
hardly  conscious.  That  these  meanings  were  both  intended 
to  be  conveyed,  is  confirmed  by  the  manner  in  which  kindred 
expressions  are  used.  When,  in  xiii.  1,  the  Apostle  says, 
"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels  " 
(raly  yXtocrtratp  tS)v  dv0pa)ira>v  \aXoo  koI  rau  ayyeXayv),  it  is  clear 
from  the  last  word  that  he  was  not  thinking  of  languages  or 
dialects,  but  of  every  conceivable  form  of  speech  or  style. 
And  wiien,  in  xiv.  9,  he  says,  "  So  ye,  unless  ye  utter  by  the 
tongue  (8ta  t^s  yXaxro-i;^)  "  a  clear  sound,"  it  is  clear  that  he 
is  using  the  word  in  reference  to  the  phrase  so  often  repeated 
in  the  immediate  context,  "  speaking  with  a  tongue  "  (X(iX«5i» 
yXaxraTj).  It  is  probable,  however,  that  this  peculiarity  of 
style  or  speech  was,  if  not  always,  yet  occasionally,  height- 
ened by  the  introduction  of  foreign  words  or  sentences  into  the 
utterances  thus  made.  The  expressions  "  kinds  of  tongues,"  f 
**  new  tongues,"  I  "  other  tongues,"  §  though  they  need  not  of 
necessity  imply  anything  more  than  a  variety  or  a  novelty  of 
modes  of  expression,  yet  become  more  appropriate  if  some- 
thing of  a  new  language,  or  of  different  languages,  were 
united  with  these  new  or  various  modes.  This  is  the  impres- 
sion  conveyed   by   the    comparison   of  "  the   speaker   with 

•  Rhct.  III.  3, 4  ;  Poet.  XXI.  6.  f  1  Cor.  xii  10,  28. 

I  Murk  xvi.  17.  i  Acts  u.  4 


GIFTS    OF   TjONGTJES    AND    OF   PROPHECY.  461 

tongues "  to  "  a  barbarian  "  (i.  e.  a  foreigner),*  and  of  the 
sign  of  tongues  generally  to  the  sign  of  foreign  languages, 
"  other  tongues  and  other  lips  "  (hepoyXwa-aois  /cat  iv  x^'^^o"*** 
irepoiv),  spoken  of  in  Isaiah,  xxviii.  ll.f  And  such  certainly 
must  be  the  meaning  of  the  first  recorded  appearance  of  the 
gift  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  however  it  may  be  explained  in 
detail.  The  stress  laid  on  the  variety  of  nations  there  as- 
sembled, and  the  expressions,  "  every  man  heard  them  in  his 
own  language  "  (t^  Idla  fiiaXe/cT«),  J  "how  hear  we  every  man 
in  our  own  language,  wherein  we  were  born  ?  "  §  "  we  hear 
them  speak  in  our  tongues  (ev  raU  rjfxcTfpais  y\a>aaais)  the 
wonderful  works  of  God,"  ||  can  hardly  be  explained  on  any 
other  supposition  than  that  the  writer  meant  to  describe  that, 
at  least  to  the  hearers,  the  sounds  spoken  seemed  to  be  those 
of  distinct  languages  and  real  dialects.  If  this  account  is  to 
be  taken  literally,  it  would  imply  that  the  fervent  expressions 
of  thanksgiving  which  on  that  occasion,  as  on  others,  consti- 
tuted the  essential  part  of  the  gift,  were  so  far  couched  in 
foreign  dialects  as  to  be  intelligible  to  the  natives  of  the 
several  countries.  And  viewing  this  passage  in  connection 
with  the  general  spirit  and  object  of  the  Acts,  we  can  hardly 
avoid  seeing,  in  the  emphatic  record  of  this  peculiar  charac- 
teristic of  the  gift,  the  design  of  pointing  it  out  as  the  natural 
result  and  the  natural  sign  of  the  first  powerful  and  public 
manifestation  of  a  religion  whose  especial  mission  it  was  to 
break  through  the  barriers  which  divide  man  from  man  and 
nation  from  nation.  Such  a  signification,  however  suitable  to 
the  occasion  of  the  first  revelation  of  a  Universal  Church, 
would  not  be  equally  appropriate,  and  is  certainly  not  re- 
quired, in  the  more  ordinary  manifestations  of  the  gift.  But 
it  is  not  difificult  to  see  that  the  effect  described  as  occurring 
on  the  day  of  Pentecost  might  grow  out  of,  and  form  part  of 
the  more  general  nature  of  "  the  tongues,"  as  described  in  the 
rest  of  the  New  Testament.     As  Xavier   is  said  to   have 


*  1  Cor.  xiv.  11.  t  Ibid.  xiv.  21,  22.  |  Acts  ii.  5. 

$  Ibid.  ii.  8.  ||  Ibid.  ii..  11. 

39* 


462  GIFTS   OF   TONGUES    AND    OP  PROPHECY. 

understood  and  made  himself  understood  by  the  Indians 
V'ithout  knowing  their  language,  and  as,  even  in  ordinary 
matters,  persons  in  a  highly  wrought  state  of  feeling  are 
enabled  to  understand  each  other,  though  not  speaking  the 
same  language,  so  this  gift,  which,  above  all  others,  lifted  the 
speaker  out  of  himself,  might  have  the  same  effect.  And 
the  peculiar  form  of  language  ordinarily  used  as  the  vehicle 
of  communication  at  that  time  would  contribute  to  the  samo 
result.  Hellenistic  Greek,  compounded  as  it  was  of  Greek, 
Latin,  and  Hebrew,  and  instinct  with  that  peculiar  life  and 
energy  which  we  see  it  assume  in  the  various  styles  of  the 
New  Testament,  especially  in  St.  Paul  and  in  the  Apoca- 
lypse, was  almost  in  itself  "  a  speaking"  in  divers  "kinds  of 
tongues."  It  has  often  been  remarked,  that  the  spread  of  this 
dialect  by  the  conquests  of  Alexander  was  a  providential 
preparation  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel ;  and  there  is  noth- 
ing more  strange  in  the  development  of  this  peculiar  lan- 
guage into  the  gift  of  tongues,  than  in  the  development  of  the 
natural  powers  of  strength  and  intellect  into  the  gifts  of 
"ministry,"  of  "wisdom,"  and  of  "  knowledge."  All  the  vari- 
ous elements  of  Aramaic  and  Hellenic  speech,  latent  in  the 
usual  language  of  the  time,  would  be  quickened  under  the 
power  of  this  gift  into  a  new  life,  sometimes  intelligible, 
sometimes  unintelligible,  to  those  who  heard  it,  but  always 
expressive  of  the  vitality  and  energy  of  the  Spirit  by  which 
it  was  animated. 

It  needs  hardly  to  be  obser%'ed  After  this  comparison  of  the 
various  passages  which  speak  of  this  gift,  that,  even  if  foreign 
words  were  always  part  of  its  exercise  (of  which  there  is  no 
proof),  there  is  no  instance  and  no  probability  of  iti>  having 
been  ever  used  as  a  means  of  instructing  foreign* nations,  or 
of  superseding  the  necessity  of  learning  foreign  languages. 
Probably  in  no  age  of  the  world  was  such  a  gift  less  needed. 
The  chief  sphere  of  the  Apostles  must  have  been  within  the 
Roman  Empire,  and  within  that  sphere  Greek  or  Latin,  but 
especially  Greek,  must  have  been  everywhere  understood. 
Even  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  the  speech  of  Peter,  by  which 


GIFTS    OF   TONGUES    AND    OF    PROPHECY.  463 

the  first  great  conversion  was  effected,  seems  to  have  been  in 
Greek,  which  probably  all  the  nations  assembled  would  suffi- 
ciently understand  ;  and  the  speaking  of  foreign  dialects  is 
nowhere  alluded  to  by  him  as  any  part  of  the  event  which  he 
is  vindicating  apd  describing.  The  Epistles,  in  like  manner, 
were  all  written  in  Greek,  though  many  of  them  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  very  nations  whose  presence  is  described  in 
the  Acts  on  that  occasion ;  the  people  of  "  Judeea,  Cappa- 
docia,  Pontus,  Asia,  Phrygia,  and  the  dwellers  at  Rome." 
When  the  Lycaonians  addressed  Paul  and  Barnabas  in  the 
speech  of  Lycaonia,*  there  is  no  mention  of  Paul  and  Bar- 
nabas answering  them  in  that  language.  According  to  one 
of  the  oldest  traditions,  Peter  is  described  as  employing  Mark 
for  an  interpreter.!  Irenaeus,  who  alone  of  the  early  Fathers 
alludes  to  the  gift  of  tongues,  and  that  in  a  manner  which 
seems  to  imply  diversity  of  language,  J  was  himself  obliged 
to  learn  the  Gaulish  language.  And,  lastly,  the  whole  chap- 
ter now  in  question  is  inconsistent  with  such  a  supposition. 
The  church  of  Corinth  is  described  as  full  of  speakers  with 
tongues,  and  yet  evidently  no  work  of  conversion  was  going 
on,  nor  any  allusion  made  to  such  a  work  as  a  possible  object 
for  the  gift.  Yet  had  such  an  object  been  within  even  its 
distant  scope,  the  argument  almost  imperatively  demanded 
that  it  should  be  noticed,  and  that  the  Apostle  should,  have 
said,  "  Why  do  you  waste  so  great  a  gift  on  those  who  can- 
.  not  profit  by  it,  when  you  might  go  forth  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  Empire  to  preach  with  it  to  the  Scythian  and  Indian 
tribes  ?  " 

The  subject  must  not  be  left  without  reference  to  similar 
manifestations  which  may  serve,  either  by  way  of  contrast  or 
resemblance,  to  illustrate  its  main  peculiarities.  In  the  Pagan 
world  the  Apostle's  words,  at  the  opening  of  the  twelfth 
chapter,  of  themselves  remind  us  of  the  unconscious  utter- 
ances which  accompanied  the  dehvery  of  the  ancient  oracles, 
when  the  ejaculations  of  the   Pythoness  stood  to  the  inter- 

*  Acts  xiv.  11.  t  Eus.  H.  E.  III.  39.  J  Adv.  Haer  VI  6» 


464  GIFTS    OF    TONGUES    AND    OF    rROPIIECT. 

preters  of  the  oracle  in  a  relation  similar  to  that  which  ex- 
isted between  the  speakers  with  tongues*  and  the  prophets. 
In  the  Jewish  dispensation  we  may  compare  the  burst  of  song 
and  trance,  which  accompanied  the  first  great  display  of  the 
prophetical  spirit  in  the  time  of  Samuel,  ,"a  company  of 
pro])hets  coming  down  from  the  high  place  with  a  psaltery, 
and  a  tabret,  and  a  pipe,  and  a  harp  before  them,"  and  propli- 
esying ;  and  "the  Spirit  of  the  Lord"  descending  upon  those 
who  witnessed  the  spectacle,  however  unprepared  for  it 
before ;  so  that  they  too  caught  the  inspiration  "  and  proph- 
esied also,"  and  were  "  turned  into  other  men,"  and  passed 
days  and  nights  in  a  state  of  ecstatic  seclusion.*  "What  the 
"  tongues  "  were  to  the  "  prophesyings  "  at  Corinth,  the  trance 
of  Saul  was  to  the  Psalms  of  David.  But  it  is  perhaps  in 
subsequent  periods  that  the  nearest  outward  likenesses  to  the 
gift  of  "  tongues  "  can  be  found.  The  wide  difference  be- 
tween the  character,  intellectual,  moral,  and  Spiritual,  of  the 
early  Christian  Church,  and  that  of  the  sects  in  which  such 
later  manifestations  have  appeared,  places  a  deep  gulf  be- 
tween the  ApostoHcal  gift  and  these  doubtful  copies.  Still 
as  the  preaching,  the  teaching,  the  government,  the  gifts  of 
knowledge,  of  wisdom,  of  ministry,  which  appear  in  the 
Apostolical  age,  are  illustrated  by  the  analogous  institutions 
and  faculties  of  less  sacred  times,  so  the  excitement  and 
enthusiasm,  and  the  gifts  more  especially  associated  with  this 
aspect  of  the  early  Church,  may  be  illustrated  no  less  fi*om 
the  expressions  of  latfer  enthusiasm.  Such  phenomena,  how- 
ever inferior  to  the  manifestations  of  the  Apostolical  times, 
have  their  origin  in  the  same  mysterious  phase  of  human  life 
and  human  nature,  which  was  included  with  so  much  besides 
of  the  most  opposite  character  in  the  wide  range  of  the 
spiritual  influences  of  Apostolical  Christianity. 

The  earliest  of  these  manifestations  was  the  alleged  eo- 
•tatic  state  of  the  Montanists  at  the  close  of  the  second  cen- 
tury.    "  There  is  at  present  a  sister  amongst  us,"  siiys  Ter* 

♦  1  Sara.  X.  5,  6,  10 ;  xix.  20  -  24. 


GIFTS    OF   TONGUES    AND    OF   PROPHECY.  465 

tullian,  "  who  has  obtained  the  gift  of  revelations,  which  she 
receives  in  the  congregation  or  solemn  sanctuary  by  ecstasy 
in  the  Spirit,  who  has  converse  with  angels,  sometimes  even 
with  the  Lord,  and  sees  and  hears  sacred  truths  (sacrament a) ^ 
and  discerns  the  hearts  of  some,  and  ministers  remedies  to 
those  wlio  want  them.  Also,  according  as  the  Scriptures  are 
read,  or  the  Psalms  sung,  or  exhortations  (adlocutiones) 
uttered,  or  petitions  presented,  so  from  these  several  sources 
materials  are  furnished  for  her  visions.  We  had  happened 
to  be  discussing  something  about  the  soul,  when  this  sister 
was  in  the  Spirit.  After  the  conclusion  of  the  service  and 
the  dismissal  of  the  congregation,  she,  after  her  usual  manner 
of  relating  her  visions  (for  they  are  carefully  recorded  that 
they  may  be  examined),  amongst  other  remarks,  said  the 
soul  was  shown  to  me  in  a  bodily  form,  the  spirit  appeared, 
but  not  of  an  empty  or  shapeless  quality,  but  as  something 
whid^  gave  hope  of  being  held,  tender  and  bright  and  of  an 
aerial  hue,  and  altogether  of  human  form." 

Another  instance  was  the  utterance  of  strange  sounds 
among  the  persecuted  Protestants  of  the  South  of  France,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  commonly  called  the 
"  Prophets  of  Cevennes,"  of  whom  full  accounts  are  to  be 
found  in  the  "  Histoire  des  Pasteurs,"  by  Peyrat ;  of  the 
"  Troubles  de  Cevennes,"  by  Gibelin ;  and  of  the  "  Eglises 
de  Desert,"  by  C.  Coquerel.  There  is  also  an  "Impartial 
Account  of  the  Prophets,"  by  an  eyewitness,  in  A  Letter 
to  a  Friend,*  on  their  appearance  in  England,  where  they 
excited  much  attention  and  the  ridicule  of  Lord  Shaftesbury 
in  his  "  Characteristics."  There  is  little  of  detailed  interest 
in  these  descriptions ;  but  they  are  remarkable,  especj^lly  the 
last  named,  as  bearing  testimony  to  the  good  character  and 
general  sobriety  of  the  persons  professing  to  be  inspired. 

But  the  most  important  of  these  manifestations,  as  the  one 
claiming  the  most  direct  connection  with  the  Apostolical  gifts, 
was  the  so-called  "  gift  of  tongues  "  in  the  followers  of  IVlr 


London:  Morphew,  1708. 


466      GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECY. 

Irving,  about  1831-1833.  Of  the  exercise  of  this  gift, 
accounts  are  here  subjoined  from  two  eyewitnesses :  the  first, 
a  believer  in  its  Divine  origin  at  the  time  he  wrote;  the 
second,  a  believer  and  actor  in  the  transactions  which  he 
de^^cribes,  but  at  the  time  that  he  wrote  rejecting  their  Di- 
vine, though  still  maintaining  their  supernatural  (though 
diabolical)  origin. 

(1.)  "As  an  instance  of  the  extraordinary  cnange  in  the 
powers  of  the  human  voice  when  under  inspiration,  I  may 
here  mention  the  case  of  an  individual  whose  natural  voice  was 
inharmonious,  and  who  besides  had  no  ear  for  keeping  time. 
Yet  even  the  voice  of  this  person,  when  singing  in  the  Spirit, 
could  pour  forth  a  rich  strain  of  melody,  of  which  each  note 
was  musical,  and  uttered  with  a  sweetness  and  power  of  ex- 
pression that  was  truly  astonishing,  and,  what  is  still  more  sin- 
gular, with  a  gradually  increasing  velocity  into  a  rapidity,  yet 
distinctness  of  utterance,  which  is  inconceivable  by  those  who 
have  never  witnessed  the  like  ;  and  yet,  with  all  this  appar- 
ently breathless  haste,  there  was  not  in  reality  the  slightest 
agitjition  of  body  •or  of  mind.  In  other  instances,  the  voice 
is  deep  and  powerfully  impressive.  I  cannot  describe  it 
better  than  by  saying  that  it  approaches  nearly  to  what  might 
be  considered  a  perfect  state  of  the  voice,  passing  far  beyond 
the  energies  of  its  natural  strength,  and  at  times  so  loud  as 
not  only  to  fill  the  whole  house,  but  to  be  heard  at  a  con- 
siderable distance ;  and  though  often  accompanied  by  an 
apparently  great  mental  energy  and  muscular  exertion  of  the 
whole  body,  yet  in  truth  there  was  not  the  slightest  disturb- 
ance in  eitiier;  on  the  contrary,  there  was  present  a  tran- 
quillity^ and  composure,  both  of  body  and  mind,  the  vcrj' 
opposite  to  any,  even  the  lejust  degree  of  excitement. 

"  Every  attempt  at  describing  these  manifestations,  so  as  to 
convey  an  accurate  knowledge  of  them  to  others,  is  sure  to 
fail ;  since,  to  have  any  adecpiate  perception  of  their  power, 
they  must  be  both  seen  a!id  felt.  Yet,  were  it  otherwise,  my 
conscience  would  scarccily  allow  me  the  liberty  of  entering 
into  80  minute  a  detail ;  for  the  consciousness  of  the  presence 


GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  PROPHECY.      467 

of  God  in  these  manifestations  is  fraught  with  such  a  holy 
solemnity  of  thought  and  feeling,  as  leave  neither  leisure  nor 
inclination  for  curious  observation.  In  a  person  alive  to  the 
presence  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  overwhelmed  by  his  mani- 
festations beside  and  around  him,  and  deeply  conscious  that 
his  heart  is  naked  and  exposed  unto  the  eye  of  God,  one 
thought  alone  fills  the  soul,  one  way  of  utterance  is  heard, 
*  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.'  Nor  can  the  eye  be 
diverted  from  the  only  sight  that  is  then  precious  to  it,  far 
more  precious  than  life  itself:  'The  Lamb  of  God,  that 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world.' "  * 

(2.)  "  After  one  or  two  of  the  brethren  had  read  and 
prayed,  Mr.  T.  was  made  to  speak  two  or  three  words  very 
distinctly,  and  with  an  energy  and  depth  of  tone  which 
seemed  to  me  extraordinary,  and  it  fell  upon  me  as  a  super- 
natural utterance  which  I  ascribed  to  the  power  of  God ;  the 
words  were  in  a  tongue  I  did  not  understand.  In  a  few 
minutes  Miss  E.  C.  broke  out  in  an  utterance  in  English, 
which,  as  to  matter  and  manner  and  the  influence  it  had  upon 
me,  I  at  once  bowed  to  as  the  utterance  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Those  who  have  heard  the  powerful  and  commanding  utter- 
ance need  no  description  ;  but  they  who  have  not,  may  con- 
ceive what  an  unnatural  and  unaccustomed  tone  of  voice,  an 
intense  and  riveting  power  of  expression,  with  the  declaration 
of  a  cutting  rebuke  to  all  who  were  present,  and  applicable 
to  my  own  state  of  mind  in  particular,  would  effect  upon  me 
and  upon  the  others  who  were  come  together,  expecting  to 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  In  the  midst  of  the 
feeling  of  awe  and  reverence  which  this  produced,  I  waa 
myself  seized  upon  by  the  power,  and  in  much  struggling 
against  it  was  made  to  cry  out,  and  myself  to  give  out  a  con- 
fession of  my  own  sin  in  the  matter  for  which  we  were 
rebuked There  was  in  me,  at  the  time  of  the  utter- 
ance, very  great  excitement ;  and  yet  I  was  distinctly  con- 

*  A  Brief  Account  of  a  Visit  to  some  of  the  Brethren  in  the  West  of 
Scotland.     Published  by  J.  Nisbet,  London,  1831,  pp.  28,  29. 


4G8  GIFTS    OF   TONGUES    AND    OF    PROrilECY. 

scious  of  a  power,  acting  upon  me  beyond  the  mere  power  of 
excitement.  So  distinct  was  this  power  from  the  excitement, 
that,  in  all  my  trouble  and  doubt  about  it,  I  never  could 
attribute  the  whole  to  excitement." *  "I  read  the  fourth 
chapter  of  Malachi ;  as  I  read  the  power  came  upon  me,  and 
I  was  made  to  read  in  the  power.  My  voice  wjis  raised  far 
beyond  its  natural  pitch,  with  constrained  repetitioua'  of  parts, 
and  with  the  same  inward  uplifting  which  at  the  presence  of 
the  power  I  had  always  before  experienced." f  "Whilst 
sitting  at  home,  a  mighty  power  came  upon  me,  but  for  a 
considerable  time  no  impulse  to  utterance  ;  presently,  a  sen- 
tence in  French  was  vividly  set  before  my  mind,  and,  under 
an  impulse  to  utterance,  was  spoken.  Then,  in  a  little  time, 
sentences  in  Latin  were  in  like  manner  uttered ;  and,  with 
short  intervals,  sentences  in  many  other  languages,  judging 
from  the  sound  and  the  different  exercise  of  the  enunciating 
organs.  My  wife,  who  was  with  me,  declared  some  of  them 
to  be  Italian  and  Spanish ;  the  first  she  can  read  and  trans- 
late, the  second  she  knows  but  little  of.  In  this  case  she  was 
not  able  to  interpret  nor  retain  the  words  as  they  were 
uttered.  All  the  time  of  these  utterances  I  was  greatly  tried 
in  mind.  After  the  first  sentence,  an  impulse  to  utterance 
continued  on  me,  and  most  painfully  I  restrained  it,  my  con- 
viction being  that,  until  something  was  set  before  me  to  utter, 
I  ought  not  to  yield  my  tongue  to  utterance.  Yet  I  was 
troubled  by  the  doubt,  what  could  the  impulse  mean,  if  I  were 
not  to  yield  to  it  ?  Under  the  trial,  I  did  yield  my  tongue 
for  a  few  moments;  but  the  utterance  that  broke  from  me 
seemed  so  discordant  that  I  concluded  the  im})ulse,  without 
words  given,  was  a  temptation,  and  I  restrained  it,  except  as 
words  were  given  me,  and  then  I  yielded.  Sometimes  single 
words  were  given  me,  and  sometimes  sentences,  though  I 

♦  Nurrative  of  Fnrts  chaniPterizing  the  Supernatural  Manifestations, 
in  Members  of  Mr.  Irving's  Congregation  and  other  IndividiialH,  in 
England  and  Scottand,  and  formerly  in  the  Writer  himself,  by  Kobcrt 
Baxter.    2d  cditioui  Nlsbct,  London,  1833,  pp.  5-7. 

t  Ibid ,  p.  12. 


GIFTS    OF   TOXGUES    AND    OF   rROPHECY.  469 

could  neither  recognize  the  words  nor  sentences  as  any  lan- 
guage I  knew,  except  those  which  were  French  or  Latin."  * 
"  My  persuasion  concerning  the  unknown  tonirue,  as  it  is 
called  (in  which  I  myself  was  very  little  exercised),  is,  that 
it  is  no  language  whatever,  but  a  mere  collection  of  words 
and  sentences ;  and  in  the  lengthened  discourses  is,  most  of  if 
a  jargon  of  sounds ;  though  I  can  conceive,  when  the  power 
is  very  great,  that  it  will  assume  much  of  the  form  of  a  con- 
nected oration."  f 

It  must  again  be  repeated,  that  those  instances  are  brought 
forward,  not  as  examples  of  the  Apostolical  gift,  but  as  illus- 
trations of  it.  But,  however  inferior  they  may  have  been 
to  the  appearances  of  which  they  were  imitations  or  resem- 
blances, they  yet  serve  to  show  the  possibility  of  the  same 
combination  of  voice,  and  ecstasy,  and  unknown  or  foreign 
words,  as  has  been  described  in  the  case  of  the  Apostolic 
gift;  they  show  also  how,  even  when  accompanied  by  ex- 
travagance and  fanaticism,  such  a  manifestation  could  still  be, 
in  a  high  degree,  solemn,  impressive,  and  affecting.  It  was 
the  glory  of  the  Apostolical  age,  that,  instead  of  dwelling 
exclusively  on  this  gift,  or  giving  it  a  prominent  place,  as  has 
been  the  case  in  the  sects  of  later  days,  the  allusions  to  it 
are  rare  and  scanty,  and  (in  the  chapter  now  before  us, 
which  contains  the  fullest  account  of  it)  even  disparaging. 
The  Corinthian  Christians,  indeed,  regarded  it  as  one  of  the 
highest  manifestations  of  spiritual  influence ;  but  this  was  the 
very  tendency  which  the  Apostle  sought  to  repress.  The 
object  of  this  Section  of  the  Epistle,  as  of  the  whole  dis- 
cussion on  spiritual  gifts  of  which  it  forms  a  part,  is  to  re- 
strain, moderate,  and  reduce  to  its  proper  subordination,  the 
fervor,  the  enthusiasm,  the  eccentricity,  so  to  speak,  occa- 
sioned by  these  gifts,  and  to  maintain  beyond  and  above 
them  the  eternal  superiority  of  the  moral  and  rehgious 
elements  which  Christianity  had  sanctioned  or  introduced. 

In   this   respect,    as   in   many  others,  the  mission  of  the 

•   *  Narrative  of  Facts,  &c.,  pp.  133,  134.  t  Ibid.,  pp.  134,  135- 

40 


470      GIFTS  OF  TONGUES  AND  OF  TROPHECY. 

Apostle  was  analogous  to,  though  at  the  same  time  wholly  un- 
like, that  of  the  ancient  prophets.  There  was  in  the  early 
Christian  Church  no  fear  (except  from  the  Jewish  party)  of  an 
undue  development  of  that  ceremonial  and  hierarchical  .spirit, 
against  which  the  Prophets  and  Psalmists,  from  Samuel  and 
David  downwards,  had  so  constantly  lifted  up  their  voices  to 
assert  the  paramount  importance  of  justice,  mercy,  and  truth  -, 
of  obedience  above  sacritice  ;  of  a  broken  and  contrite  spirit 
above  burnt-offerings  of  bulls  and  goats.  It  was  from  an 
0[)posite  quarter  that  these  great  spiritual  verities  were  en- 
dangered in  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  Church ;  but  the 
danger  was  hardly  less  formidable.  The  attractions  of  mi- 
raculous power,  of  conscious  impulses  of  a  Divine  presence, 
of  a  speech  and  an  ecstatic  state  whicli  struck  all  beholders 
with  astonishment,  were  the  temptations  which,  amongst  the 
j^imitive  Gentile  Christians,  threatened  to  withdraw  the 
Church  from  the  truth,  the  sim[)licity,  and  the  soberness  of 
Christ  tmd  of  Paul,  as  the  stately  ceremonial  of  the  Jewish 
worship  had,  in  ancient  times,  had  the  like  effect  in  withdraw- 
ing the  nation  of  Israel  from  the  example  of  Abraham  and 
the  teaching  of  Moses.  That  the  gifts  were  not  less  neces- 
sary to  sustain  the  first  faith  of  the  Apostolical  Christians, 
than  the  Levitical  rites  were  to  sustain  that  of  the  Jewish 
people,  does  but  render  the  illustration  more  exact.  What, 
therefore,  the  protests  of  Isaiah  and  Amos  are  against  the 
corruptions  of  the  ancient  Jewish  prie.-thood,  what  the  pro- 
tests of  the  Apostle  iiimself  in  the  Epistles  to  tiie  Romans 
and  Galatians  are  against  circumcision  and  the  rites  of  the 
Mosaic  Law,  that  this  chapter  is  against  all  those  tendencies 
of  the  human  mind  which  delight  in  displays  of  Divine 
j)Ower  more  than  in  displays  of  Divine  wisdom  or  gcx)dness, 
which  place  the  evidence  of  God's  spirit  more  in  sudden  and 
wondeiful  fmraes  of  feeling  and  devotion,  than  in  acts  of  use- 
fulness and  instruction,  which  make  religion  selfish  and  indi- 
vidual I'ather  than  social.  Gregory  the  Great  warned  Au- 
gustine of  Canterbury  not  to  rejoice  that  spirits  were  subject 
to  him  by  miraculous  power,  but  that  liis  name  was  written  in 


GIFTS    OF   TONGUES    AND    OF   PROPHECY.  471 

the  Book  of  Life  through  the  conversions  which  he  had 
effected.  The  attempts  of  Paley  to  rest  Christianity  solely 
upon  its  external  evidence  have,  in  our  own  times,  been 
rejected  by  a  higher  and  more  comprehensive  philosophy. 
The  great  body  of  the  Christian  Church  has,  in  all  ages, 
given  little  heed  to  the  extraordinary  displays  of  power,  real 
or  pretended,  by  particular  sects  or  individuals.  In  all  these* 
cases  the  warning  of  the  Apostle  in  this  chapter  has  been  at 
hand,  to  support  the  more  rational  and  the  more  dignified 
course  (if  so  it  may  without  offence  be  called),  which  minds 
less  enlightened,  and  consciences  less  alive  to  the  paramount 
greatness  of  moral  excellence,  may  have  been  induced  to 
despise.  If  the  Apostle's  declaration,  that  "  he  himself  spake 
with  tongiies "  "  more  than  they  all,"  when  combined  with 
his  other  qualities,  is  a  guaranty  that  the  Apostolical  gift  of 
tongues  was  not  imposture  or  fanaticism ;  yet,  on  the  other 
hand,  his  constant  language  respecting  it  is  a  guaranty  no 
less  that  gifts  such  as  these  were  the  last  that  he  would  have 
brought  forward  in  vindication  or  support  of  the  Gospel 
which  he  preached.  The  excitable  temperament  of  Eastern, 
as  compared  with  Western  nations,  may  serve  to  explain  to 
us,  how  it  was  that  conditions  of  mind  like  that  imphed  in  the 
gift  of  tongues  should  have  accompar^ied,  without  disturbing, 
a  faith  so  lofty,  so  sober,  so  dispassionate,  as  that  of  the 
Apostle.  But  it  also  makes  that  soberness  the  more  remark- 
able in  the  Apostle,  born  and  bred  in  this  very  Oriental 
atmosphere  where,  as  is  still  shown  by  the  exercises  of  the 
Mussulman  dervishes,  nothing  is  too  wild  to  be  incorporated 
into  religious  worship ;  where,  as  is  still  shown  by  the  ready 
acceptance  of  the  legends  of  Mahomet  and  the  Mussulman 
saints,  nothing  is  too  extravagant  to  be  received  as  a  miracle. 
He  acknowledged  the  truth,  he  claimed  the  possession,  of  this 
extraordinary  power ;  and  yot  he  was  endowed  with  the 
wisdom  and  the  courage  to  treat  it  as  always  subordinate, 
>ften  even  useless  and  needless. 


•      LOVE,  THE  GEEATEST  OF  GIFTS. 

Br  Rev.  ARTHUR  P.   STANLEY. 

1  Cor.  xii.  31-xiii.  13. 

This  passage  stands  alone  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul, 
both  in  its  subject  and  in  its  style  ;  yet  it  is  the  kernel  of  the 
whole  Epistle.  This  Epistle  finds  its  climax  here,  as  that  to 
the  Romans  in  the  conclusion  of  the  eighth  chapter,  or  that 
to  the  Hebrews,  in  the  eleventh.  Whatever  evil  tendencies 
he  had  noticed  before  in  the  Corinthian  church,  met  their 
true  correction  in  this  one  gift.  To  them,  whatever  it  might 
be  to  others,  to  them,  with  their  factions,  their  intellectual 
excitements,  their  false  pretensions,  it  was  all-important. 
Without  this  bond  of  Love  he  felt  that  the  Christian  society 
of  Greece  would  as  surely  fall  to  pieces,  as  its  civil  society  in 
former  times  had  appeared  to  philosophers  and  statesmen  to 
be  destined  to  dissolution,  without  the  corresponding  virtue 
of  <pi\iaj  or  mutual  harmony.  Therefore,  although  in  a 
digression,  he  rises  with  the  subject  into  the  passionate  fervor 
which  in  him  is  only  produced  by  a  directly  practical  object. 
Unlike  the  mere  rhetorical  panegyrics  on  particular  virtues, 
which  are  to  be  found  in  Philo  and  similar  writers,  every 
word  of  the  description  tells  with  double  force,  because  it  is 
aimed  against  a  real  enemy.  It  is  as  thougli,  wearied  with 
the  long  discussions  against  the  sins  of  the  Corinthian  church, 
he  had  at  last  found  the  spell  by  which  they  could  be  over- 
come, and  uttered  sentence  af\er  sentence  with  the  triumphant 
cry  of  "  Eureka  I " 


LOVE,   THE    GREATEST    OF    GIFTS.  473 

The  particular  motive  for  the  intrt)duction  of  the  passage 
ill  this  place  was,  as  we  have  seen,  the  wish  to  impress  upon 
his  readers  the  subordination  of  gifts  of  mere  display,  such 
as  the  gift  of  tongues,  to  gifts  of  practical  utility,  such  as 
prophecy.  And  analogously  the  same  truth  still  needs  to  be 
impressed :  "  To  all  but  one  in  ten  thousand,"  it  has  been 
well  said,  "  Christian  speculation  is  barren  of  great  fruiti! ;  to 
all  but  one  in  ten  thousand,  Christian  benevolence  is  fruitful 
of  great  thoughts."  Such  is  the  directly  practical  result  of 
the  chapter.  But  the  very  style  shows  that  it  rises  far  above 
any  immediate  or  local  occasion.  On  each  side  of  this  chap- 
ter the  tumult  of  argument  and  remonstrance  still  rages  :  but 
within  it,  all  is  calm ;  the  sentences  move  in  almost  rhythmi- 
cal melody;  the  imagery  unfolds  itself  in  almost  dramatic 
propriety ;  the  language  arranges  itself  with  almost  rhetorical 
accuracy.  We  can  imagine  how  the  Apostle's  amanuensis 
must  have  paused,  to  look  up  on  his  master's  face  at  the  sud- 
den change  of  the  style  of  his  dictation,  and  seen  his  counte- 
nance lighted  up  as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an  angel,  as  the 
sublime  vision  of  Divine  perfection  passed  before  him.  What 
then,  let  us  ask,  is  the  nature  and  origin  of  that  new  element 
of  goodness,  of  which  this  is  the  earliest  detailed  description  ? 

In  the  first  place,  the  word  aydnt]  is,  in  this  sense,  alto- 
gether peculiar  to  the  New  Testament ;  and  in  the  New 
Testament,  to  the  writings  of  Paul,  Peter,  and  John.  It  is  a 
remarkable  fact,  that  the  word,  as  a  substantive,  is  entirely 
unknown  to  classical  Greek.  The  only  passage  where  it  is 
quoted  in  Stephens's  Thesaurus  as  occurring,  is  in  Plutarch's 
Symposium ;  and  there  it  has  been  subsequently  corrected 
by  Reiske  from  ayaTr???  S>v  to  the  participle  ayaizriaav.  The 
verb  ayairav,  indeed,  is  used  in  classical  Greek,  but  in  the 
sense  only  of  acquiescence  and  contentment,  or  of  esteem 
and  value.  It  is  in  the  LXX»  that  we  first  find  it  employed, 
to  designate  what  we  call  "  love  " ;  and  it  is  there  introduced 
(probably  from  its  likeness  in  sound  to  the  Hebrew  words)  to 
represent  3nx  and  3JI^  ("ahab"  and  "agab"),  both  words 
expressive  of  passionate  affection,  drawn  from  the  idea   of 

40* 


474  LOVE,   THE    GREATEST    OF    GIFTS. 

*  .  .  .        * 

panting,  aspiring  after  a  desired  object  The  substantive  dydirif 
only  occurs  in  Cant.  ii.  4,  v.  6,  viii.  G,  7,  for  sexual  love,  and 
is  there  probably  suggested  by  the  Hebrew  feminine  from 
•^5^$^  ("  ahabah  ").*  The  peculiarity  of  4ts  use  in  the  New 
Testament  is,  that  when  used  simply,  and  unexplained  by 
anything  else,  it  is  equivalent  to  benevolence  based  on  relig- 
ious motives.  The  Old  Testament  (in  the  word  -^^t)  ex- 
hibited the  virtues  both  of  conjugal  affection  and  of  friendship 
passing  the  love  of  women,  as  in  the  case  of  David ;  it  ex- 
hibited also,  in  the  case  of  David,  the  same  passionate  devo- 
tion transferred  fi-om  man  to  God,  as  is  wonderfully  shown 
throughout  the  Psalms ;  it  exhibited,  lastly,  the  same  feeling 
emanating  from  God  himself  towards  his  peculiar  people,  the 
spouse  of  his  choice,  the  daughter  of  Zion.  The  Greek 
world  also  exhibited  in  a  high  degree  the  virtue  of  personal 
friendship,  which  was,  indeed,  so  highly  esteemed,  as  to  give 
its  name  ((f>i}<ia)  to  affection  generally.  Domestic  and  con- 
jugal affection,  strictly  sf)eaking,  there  was  not.  The  word 
(ep&)s),  which  most  nearly  approaches  to  the  modern  notions 
of  love,  expressed  either  a  merely  sensual  admimtion  of 
physical  beauty,  or,  when  transferred  in  the  sublime  language 
of  Plato  to  a  loftier  sj)here,  an  intellectual  admiration  of  ideal 
beauty.  The  writers  who  at  Alexandria  united  the  hisi 
efforts  of  Grecian  philosophy  with  the  last  efforts  of  Jewish 
feligion,  went  a  step  in  one  sense  beyond  both  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  also  the  Greek  literature,  though  in  another  sense 
below  them  both.  Benevolence  to  man,  as  man,  expressing 
itself  in  the  word  ^iXni/^/xnwrio,  occupies  in  the  writings  of 
Philo  very  much  tlu^  same  position  as  that  occupied  in  the 
New  Testament  by  dydnrj.  Rut  whilst  it  breaks  through  the 
narrow  limits  in  which  the  love  of  the  Hebrew  dispensation 
was  confined,  it  loses  its  intensity.  It  becomes  an  abslmc- 
tion  to  be  panegyrized,  not  a  poweiful  motive  to  be  acted 
upon. 

In  contradistinction  to  all  these,  and  yet  the  comj)lement 

•  So  ^dpis,  "  a  boat,"  is  used  as  the  translation  of  n;^'3,  "  a  palace.** 


LOVE,    THE    GREATEST    OF    GIFTS.  475 

and  completion  of  all,  is  the  Love,  or  dyaTrr},  of  the  New 
Testament.  Whilst  it  retains  all  the  fervor  of  the  Hebrew 
aspiration  and  desire,  and  of  the  personal  affection  of  the 
Greek,  it  ranges  through  as  wide  a  spliere  as  the  compre- 
hensive benevolence  of  Alexandria.  Whilst  it  retains  the 
j-eligious  element  that  raised  the  affections  of  the  Hebrew 
Psalmist  to  the  presence  of  God,  it  agrees  with  the  classical 
and  Alexandrian  feelings  in  making  its  chief  object  the  wel- 
fare of  man.  It  is  not  Rehgion  evaporated  into  Benevolence, 
but  Benevolence  taken  up  into  Religion.  It  is  the  practical 
exemplification  of  the  two  great  characteristics  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  union  of  God  with  man,  the  union  of  religion 
with  morality  ;  Love  to  man  for  the  sake  of  Love  to  God ; 
Love  to  God  showing  itself  in  Love  to  man. 

It  is,  perhaps,  vain  to  ask  by  what  immediate  means  this 
new  idea  was  introduced  to  the  Anostle's  mind  ;  it  may  be 
that  this  very  passage  is  the  expression  of  his  delight  at  first 
fully  grasping  the  mighty  truth  which  henceforth  was  never 
to  pass  from  him.  But  the  impression  left  by  the  words  rather 
is,  that  he  assumes  it  as  something  already  known  ;  new, 
indeed,  in  its  application  to  the  wants  of  the  Corinthian 
church,  but  recognized  as  a  fundamental  part  of  the  Christian 
revelation.  Is  it  too  much  to  say,  that  this  is  one  of  the 
ideas  derived  expressly  from  what  he  calls  "  the  revelations 
of  the  Lord "  ?  that  it  is  from  the  great  example  of  self- 
sacrificing  love  shown  in  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ, 
that  the  Apostle,  and  through  him  the  Christian  world,  has 
received  the  truth,  that  Love  to  man  for  the  sake  of  God 
is  the  one  great  end  of  human  existence.  ''A  new  com- 
mandment he  gave  unto  us,  that  we  should  love  one  another, 
as  he  loved  us.  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  he 
lay  down  his  life  for  another."  Until  Christ  had  lived  and 
died,  the  virtue  was  impossible.  The  fact  of  its  having 
come  into  existence,  the  urgency  with  wliich  the  Apostle 
dwells  upon  it,  is  itself  a  proof  that  he  had  lived  and  died 
as  none  had  ever  lived  and  died  before.  And  it  is  further 
remai'kable,   that    a    word  and  an  idea  which  first  appears 


476  LOVE,   THE    GREATEST    OF    GIFTS. 

in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul  should  receive  its  full  meaning 
and  development  in  those  of  St.  John.  To  the  minds  of 
both  these  great  Apostles,  amidst  all  their  other  diversities, 
"  Ix)ve "  represented  the  chief  fact  and  the  chief  doctrine 
of  Christianity.  Has  it  occupied  the  same  place  in  Chris- 
tian theology  or  Christian  practice  at  any  later  period  ? 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  CHRIST. 

By  Eev.  ARTHUR  P.   STAISTLEY. 
1  Cor.  XV.  1-11. 

The  foregoing  Section  is  remarkable  in  two  points  of 
view :  — 

First.  It  contains  the  earliest  known  specimen  of  what 
may  be  called  the  Creed  of  the  early  Church.  In  one  sense, 
indeed,  it  differs  from  what  is  properly  called  a  Creed,  which 
was  the  name  applied,  not  to  what  new  converts  were  taught, 
but  what  they  professed  on  their  conversion.  Such  a  pro- 
fession is  naturally  to  be  found  only  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apos- 
tles ;  as  an  impassioned  expression  of  thanksgiving,  in  Acts 
iv.  24  —  30  ;  or  more  frequently  as  a  simple  expression  of 
belief,  in  Acts  viii.  37,  where  (in  some  manuscripts)  the  eu- 
nuch, in  reply  to  Philip's  question,  answers,  "  I  believe  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God";  and  in  Acts  xvi.  31,  xix. 
5,  where  the  same,  or  nearly  the  same,  is  impHed  of  the 
jailer  of  Philippi  and  of  the  converts  at  Ephesus.  But  the 
value  of  the  present  passage  is,  that  it  gives  us  a  sample  of 
the  exact  form  of  the  oral  teaching  of  the  Apostle.  As  has 
been  before  remarked,  it  cannot  be  safely  inferred  that  w^e 
have  here  the  whole  of  what  the  Apostle  means  to  describe 
as  the  Toundation  of  his  preaching ;  partly  because  of  the 
expression  "  first  of  all,"  partly  because,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  he  brings  forward  most  prominently  what  was 
specially  required  by  the  occasion.  Still,  on  the  whole,  the 
more  formal  and  solemn  introduction  of  the  argument,  as  in 


478  THE    RESURRECTION    OF    CHRIST. 

xi.  23  ("  I  delivered,  I  received  "),  and  the  conciseness  of  tho 
phrases  ("  died,"  "  was  buried,"  and  the  twice-repeated  ex- 
pression "according  to  the  Scriptures"),  imply  that  at  least 
in  the  third  and  fourth  verses  we  have  to  a  certain  extent  the 
original  formula  of  the  Apostle's  teaching.  And  this  is  con- 
firmed by  its  similarity  to  parts  of  the  Creeds  of  the  first 
three  centuries,  especially  to  that  which,  under  the  name  of 
the  Apostles'  Creed,  has  been  generally  adopted  in  the 
churches  of  the  West. 

Of  the  details  of  this  primitive  formula,  enough  has  been 
said  in  the  commentary.  It  is  important,  besides,  to  observe 
its  general  character.  Two  points  chiefly  present  themselves, 
as  distinguishing  it  from  later  productions  of  a  similar  nature : 
(1.)  It  is  a  strictly  historical  composition.  It  is  what  the 
Apostle  himself  calls  it,  not  so  much  a  Creed  as  a  *'  Gospel " ; 
a  "  Gospel  "  both  in  the  etymological  sense  of  that  word  in 
English  as  well  as  in  Greek,  as  a  "  glad  message,"  and  also 
in  the  popular  sense  in  which  it  is  applied  to  the  narratives 
of  our  Lord's  life.  It  is  the  aimouncement,  not  of  a  doctrine, 
or  thought,  or  idea,  but  of  simple  matters  of  fact ;  of  a  joy- 
ful message,  which  its  bearer  was  eager  to  disclose,  and  its 
hearer^iiger  to  receive.  Dim  notions  of  some  gi-eat  changes 
coming  over  the  face  of  the  world,  vague  rumoi-s  of  some 
wide  movement  spreading  itself  from  Palestine,  had  swept 
along  the  western  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  and  it  was 
in  answer  to  the  inquiries  thus  suggested,  that  Apostle  and 
Evangelist  communicated  the  "  things  that  they  had  seen  or 
heard."  Thus  it  was  that  the  Apostle's  "  Ga'jpel "  was  con- 
tained in  the  brief  summary  here  presented,  and  such  a 
summary  as  this  became  the  origin  of  the  **  Gospels,"  and,  ac- 
cording to  the  wants  of  the  readers,  was  expanded  into  the 
detailed  narratives  which  still  retained  the  name  of  "  glad 
tidings,"  though,  strictly  speaking,  it  belonged  only  to  the 
original  announcement  of  their  contents. 

(2.)  A  point  of  subordinate  interest,  but  still  remarkable 
fts  belonging  solely  to  the  Apostolical  age,  is  the  emphatic 
connection  of  the  facts  announced  with  the  ancient  dispensi^ 


THE    RESURRECTION    OF    CHRIST.  479 

tion.  Amongst  all  the  forms,  some  of  them  of  considerable 
length,  which  are  preserved,  of  the  creeds  of  the  first  four  cen- 
turies, there  are  only  two  (that  of  TertuUian  *  and  of  Epipha- 
nius,  t  from  whom,  probably,  it  was  derived  in  the  Nicene 
Creed),  which  contain  the  expressions  here  twice  repeated, 
"  according  to  the  Scriptures,"  and  in  those  two  probably 
imitated  from  this  place.  The  point,  though  minute,  is  of 
importance,  as  helping  to  bring  before  us  the  different  aspect 
which  the  same  events  wore  to  the  Apostolical  age  and  to  the 
next  generations.  If,  in  so  compendious  an  account  of  his 
preaching  the  fundamental  facts  of  the  Gospel  history,  the 
Apostle  thinks  it  necessary  twice  over  to  repeat  that  they 
took  place  in  conformity  with  the  ancient  prophecies,  it  is 
evident  that  his  hearers.  Gentiles  as  in  this  instance  they 
were  to  a  great  extent,  must  have  been  not  only  familiar  with 
the  Old  Testament,  but  anxious  to  have  their  new  faitii 
brought  into  connection  with  it.  Later  ages  have  delighted 
in  discovering  mystical  anticipations  or  argumentative  proofs 
of  the  New  Testament  in  the  Old ;  but  these  words,  express- 
ing, as  they  do,  the  general  feeling  of  the  Apostolical  writ- 
ings, carry  us  back  to  a  time  when  the  events  of  Christianity 
required,  as  it  were,  not  only  to  be  illustrated  or  confirmed, 
but  to  be  justified,  by  reference  to  Judaism.  We  have  in 
them  the  sign  that,  in  reading  this  Epistle,  although  on  the 
shores  of  Greece,  we  are  still  overshadowed  by  the  hills  of 
Palestine ;  the  older  covenant  still  remains  in  the  eye  of  the 
world  as  the  one  visible  institution  of  Divine  origin  ;  the 
"  Scriptures  "  of  the  Old  Testament  are  still  appealed  to  with 
undivided  reverence,  as  the  stay  of  the  very  writings  which 
were  destined  so  soon  to  take  a  place,  if  not  above,  at  least 
beside  them,  with  a  paramount  and  independent  authority. 

Secondly.  This  passage  contains  the  earliest  extant  ac- 
count of  the  resurrection  of  Christ.  Thirty  years  at  the 
most,  twenty  years  at  the  least,  had  elapsed,  that  is  to  say, 
about  the  same  period  as  has  intervened  between  this  year 

=*   A.dv.  Prax.c.2.  t  Up   122. 


480  THE    RESURRECTION    OF    CHRIST. 

(1855)  and  the  French  Revohition  of  1830  ;  and,  as  tbo 
Apostle  observes,  most  of  those  to  whom  he  appeals  as  wit- 
nesses were  still  living ;  and  he  himself,  though  not  strictly 
an  eyewitness  of  the  fact  of  tlie  resurrection,  yet,  in  so  far 
as  lie  describes  the  vision  at  his  conversion,  must  be  con- 
sidered as  bearing  unequivocal  testimony  to  the  belief  in  it 
prevailing  at  that  time.  It  is  not,  however,  the  mere  asser- 
tion of  the  general  fact  which  gives  especial  interest  to  this 
passage,  but  the  details  of  the  appearances.  The  belief  in 
the  fact  is  sufficiently  implied  in  other  Epistles  of  the  same 
date,  and  of  genuineness  equally  incontestable ;  as  in  Rom.  i. 
4  ;  iv.  24,  25  ;  v.  10  ;  vi.  4  -  10  ;  viii.  11,  34  ;  x.  9  ;  xiv.  9 ; 
2  Cor.  iv.  10, 11, 14 ;  v.  15  ;  Gal.  i.  1 ;  1  Thess.  i.  10  ;  iv.  14. 
Indeed,  it  is  almost  needless  to  quote  particular  passages  to 
prove  a  conviction  which  the  whole  tenor  of  the  Apostle's 
writings  piesupposes,  and  which  has  hardly  ever  been  doubt- 
ed. But;  ihis  Epistle  on  several  occasions  not  only  implies 
and  states  general  facts,  but  descends  into  particular  details 
of  the  Gospel  history.  Accordingly,  in  this  passage  we  have 
here  the  account  of  five  appearances  after  the  resurrection, 
besides  the  one  to  himself.  The  general  character  of  the 
appearances  remarkably  agrees  with  that  in  the  Gospel  nar- 
ratives. They  are  all  spoken  of  as  separate  and  transient 
glimpses,  rather  than  a  continuous  and  abiding  intercourse. 
Some  of  the  instances  given  are  certainly  identical  in  both. 
Such  are  the  appearances  to  the  two  collective  meetings  of 
the  Apostles.  The  appearances  to  Peter,  to  the  five  bun- 
dled, and  to  James,  are  distinct  from  those  in  the  Gospel 
narrative ;  and  it  may  be  remarked  that  this  variation  itself 
agrees  with  the  discrepancies  and  obscurities  which  charac- 
terize that  portion  of  the  Gospel  narrative.  The  appearance 
to  James  in  particular,  agreeing  as  it  does  with  the  account  of 
a  rejected  Gospel  (that  according  to  the  Hebrews),  and  not 
with  those  of  the  canonical  Gospels,  indicates  an  independent 
source  for  (lie  Apostle's  statement.  The  appearance  to  Peter 
is  also  to  be  noticed  especially,  as  an  example  of  an  inci- 
dent to  which  there  is  an   allusion  in  the  Gospel  narra- 


THE   RESUIIRECTION    OF    CHRIST.  481 

tive,*  wliich  here  only  receives  its  explanation.  The  ap- 
pearance to  the  five  hundred  is  to  be  observed  as  exempli- 
fying with  regard  to  the  Apostle's  relation,  with  regard  to  the 
Gospel  narratives,  what  is  often  to  be  observed  with  regard 
to  his  relation  to  the  Acts ;  namely,  that  he,  writing  nearer 
the  time,  makes  a  fuller  statement  of  the  miraculous  or  won- 
deiful  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  later  accounts ;  the  reverse 
of  what  is  usually  supposed  to  take  place  in  fictitious  narra- 
tives. 

The  result,  therefore,  on  the  whole,  of  the  comparison  of 
St.  Paul's  narrative  with  that  of  the  Gospels,  is,  — 

(1.)  That  there  must  already  have  existed  at  this  time  a 
belief  in  the  main  outline  of  the  Gospel  story  of  the  Resur- 
rection, much  as  we  have  it  now. 

(2.)  That  the  Gospel  to  which  his  statements,  as  elsewhere 
i50  here,  bear  the  closest  resemblance,  is  that  of  St.  Luke, 
thus  confirming  the  usual  tradition  of  their  connection. 

(3.)  That  with  regard  to  the  Resurrection  in  particular, 
there  was,  besides  the  four  accounts  preserved  in  the  Gospels, 
a  fifth,  agreeing  with  them  in  its  general  character,  but  differ- 
ing from  them  as  much  as  they  differ  from  each  other,  and, 
whilst  it  is  earlier  in  time,  giving  stronger  attestations  to  the 
event. 

*  Luke  xxiv.  34. 


iJ 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  THE  DEAD. 

Br   Eev.  ARTHUR  P.  STANLEY. 
1  Cor.  XT.  35  -  58. 

This  passage  is  important,  as  exemplifying  what  may  be 
called  the  soberness  of  the  Apostle's  view  of  a  future  life. 
He  enters  into  no  details,  he  appeals  to  two  arguments  only : 
first,  the  endless  variety  of  the  natural  world ;  secondly,  the 
power  of  the  new  life  introduced  by  Christ.  These  two 
together  furnish  him  with  the  hope,  that  out  of  God's  infinite 
goodness  and  power,  as  shown  in  nature  and  in  grace,  life  will 
spring  out  of  death,  and  new  forms  of  being  wholly  unknown 
to  us  here  will  fit  us  for  the  spiritual  world  hereafter.  On 
one  point  only  he  professes  to  have  a  distinct  revelation,  and 
that  not  with  regard  to  the  dead,  but  to  the  living.  So  firmly 
was  the  first  generation  of  Christians  possessed  of  the  belief 
that  they  should  live  to  see  the  second  coming,  that  it  is  here 
assumed  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and  their  fate,  as  near  and 
immediate,  is  used  to  illustrate  the  darker  and  more  mysteri- 
ous subject  of  the  fate  of  those  already  dead.  That  vision 
of  "  the  last  man,"  which  now  seems  so  remote  as  to  live  only 
in  poetic  fiction,  was,  to  the  Apostle,  an  awful  reality  ;  but  it 
is  brought  forward  only  to  express  *he  certainty  that,  even 
here,  a  change  must  take  place  ;  the  greatest  that  imagination 
can  conceive.  The  last  of  the  human  race  will  have  passed 
away ;  but  in  that  moment  of  final  dissolution,  the  only 
thought  that  is  present  to  the  Apostle's  mind  is  not  death,  but 
life  and  victory.     The  time  was  approaching,  as  it  seemed, 


THE   RESURRECTION    OF   THE    DEAD.  483 

when,  in  the  language  of  modern  science,  "  not  the  individual 
only,  but  the  species  of  man,  would  be  transferred  to  the  list 
of  extinct  forms,"  and  all  the  generations  of  mm  would  be 
"  gone,  lost,  hushed  in  the  stillness  of  a  mightier  death  than 
had  hitherto  been  thought  of."  To  us  the  end  of  the  world, 
though  now  indefinitely  postponed,  is  a  familiar  idea ;  then  it 
was  new  in  itself,  and  its  coming  Avas  expected  to  be  imme- 
diate. As  in  that  trial  of  his  individual  faith  and  patience, 
mentioned  in  the  Second  Epistle,*  it  was  revealed  to  him  that 
"  Christ's  grace  was  sufficient  for  him  "  ;  so  also  in  this  trial, 
which  appeared  to  await  the  whole  existing  generation  of 
men,  it  was  (so  he  seems  to  tell  us)  declared  to  him  "in 
a "  revealed  "  mystery,"  that  in  that  great  change  "  God 
would  give  them  the  victory "  over  death  and  the  grave, 
"through  Jesus  Christ." 

The  question,  with  which  the  passage  opens  and  which 
even  in  later  times  has  often  been  asked  again  with  elaborate 
minuteness,  "  How  are  the  dead  raised  up,  and  with  what 
body  do  they  come  ? "  is  met  with  the  stern  reproof,  "  Thou 
fool "  ;  nor  is  what  we  call  "  the  resurrection  of  the  body," 
properly  speaking,  touched  upon  in  these  verses.  The  diffi- 
culties which  have  been  raised  respecting  the  Resurrection  in 
the  Apostle's  time  or  in  our  own,  are  occasioned  by  the  futile 
endeavor  to  form  a  more  distinct  conception  of  another  life 
than  in  our  mortal  state  is  possible.  The  inquiry  which  he 
answers  is  like  that  of  the  Sadducees,  "In  the  resurrection 
whose  wife  shall  she  be  of  the  seven  ?  "  and  the  spirit  of  his 
reply  is  the  same  as  that  of  our  Lord,  "  In  the  resurrection 
they  neither  marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage,  but  are  as  the 

angels  of  God  in  heaven God  is  not  the  God  of  the, 

dead,  but  of  the  living."  All  that  the  Apostle  directly  asserts 
is,  that  whatever  body  there  may  be  after  death  will  be 
wholly  different  from  the  present,  and  that  the  infinite  variety 
of  nature  renders  such  an  expectation  not  only  possible,  but 
probable.     His  more  positive  belief  or  hope  on  this  subject 

♦  2  Cor.  xii.  8,  9. 


484        THE  RESURRECTION  OF  THE  DEAD. 

must  be  sought,  not  here,  but  in  2  Cor.  v.  1-6.  This  much, 
however,  may  be  inferred  from  the  two  passages  combined, 
and  from  such  expressions  as  Rom.  viii.  23,  "  The  redemption 
of  our  body";  Rom.  viii.  11,  "He  that  raised  up  Christ 
from  the  dead  shall  also  quicken  your  mortal  bodies  "  ;  Phil. 
iii.  21,  "Who  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be 
fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body  " ;  —  namely,  that  the 
Christian  idea  of  a  future  state  is  not  fully  expressed  by  a 
mere  abstract  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  but  requires 
a  redemption  and  restoration  of  the  whole  man.  According 
to  the  ancient  creed  of  Paganism,  expressed  in  the  well- 
known  lines  at  the  commencement  of  the  Iliad,  the  souls  of 
departed  heroes  did  indeed  survive  death ;  but  these  souls 
were  not  themselves,  they  were  the  mere  shades  or  ghosts  of 
what  had  been;  "themselves"  were  the  bodies  left  to  be 
devoured  by  dogs  and  vultures.  The  Apostle's  teaching,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  always  that,  amidst  whatever  change,  it  is 
the  very  man  himself  that  is  preserved ;  and,  if  for  the 
preservation  of  this  identity  any  outward  organization  is 
required,  then,  although  "  flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,"  God  from  the  infinite  treasure-house  of 
the  new  heavens  and  new  earth  will  furnish  that  organiza- 
tion, as  he  has  already  furnished  it  to  the  several  stages  of 
creation  in  the  present  order  of  the  world.  "  If  God  so 
clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is  and  to-morrow  ia 
cast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much  rather  clothe  you,  O  ye 
of  little  faith?" 


THE  CREDIBILITY  OF  MIRACLES 

By  THOMAS  BROWN,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  Ed., 

PROFESSOR  OP  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  IN  THE  UNIVERSITT  OP  EDINBURGH.* 


The  possibility  of  the  occasional  direct  operation  of  the 
Power  which  formed  the  world,  in  varying  the  usual  course 
of  its  events,  it  would  be  in  the  highest  degree  unphilosophi- 
cal  to  deny :  nor  can  we  presume  to  estimate  the  degree  of  its 
probability ;  since,  in  many  cases,  of  the  wide  bearings  of 
which  on  human  happiness  we  must  be  ignorant,  it  might  be 
the  result  of  the  same  benevolent  motives  which  we  must 
suppose  to  have  influenced  the  Divine  mind  in  the  original 
act  of  creation  itself.  But  the  theory  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment, which  admits  the  possibility  of  such  occasional  agency, 
is  very  different  from  that  which  asserts  the  necessity  of  the 
perpetual  and  uniform  operation  of  the  Supreme  Being,  as 
the  immediate  or  efficient  cause  of  every  phenomenon.  The 
will  of  the  Deity,  whether  displayed  in  those  obvious  varia- 
tions of  events  which  are  termed  miracles,  or  inferred  from 
those  supposed  secret  and  invisible  changes  which  are  ascribed 
to  his  providence,  is  itself,  in  all  such  cases,  to  be  regarded 
by  the  affirmer  of  it  as  a  new  physical  antecedent,  from 
which,  if  it  really  form  a  part  of  the  series  of  events,  a  differ- 
ence of  result  may  naturally  be  expected,  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple as  that,  on  which  we  expect  a  change  of  product  from 
any  other  new  combination  of  physical  circumstances. 


*  From  a  note  to  his  "  Inquiry  into  the  Relation  of  Cause  and  Effect.* 
41* 


486  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    MIRACLES. 

It  is  on  this  view  of  the  Divine  will,  —  as  itself,  in  every 
case  in  which  it  may  be  supposed  to  operate  directly  in  the 
phenomena  of  the  universe,  a  new  circumstance  of  physical 
causation,  —  that  every  valid  answer  to  the  abstract  argument 
of  Mr.  Hume's  Essay  on  Miracles  must,  as  I  conceive,  be 
founded.  The  great  mistake  of  that  argument  does  not  con- 
sist, as  has  been  imagined,  in  a  miscalculation  of  the  force  of 
testimony  in  general :  for  the  principle  of  the  calculation 
must  be  conceded  to  him,  that,  whatever  be  the  source  of  our 
early  faith  in  testimony,  the  rational  credit  which  we  after- 
wards give  to  it,  in  any  case,  depends  on  our  belief  of  the  less 
improbability  of  the  facts  reported,  than  of  the  ignorance  or 
fraud  of  the  reporter.  If  the  probabilities  were  reversed,  — 
and  if  it  appeared  to  us  less  probable  that  any  fact  should 
have  happened  as  stated,  than  that  the  reporter  of  it  should 
have  been  unacquainted  with  the  real  circumstances,  or 
desirous  of  deceiving  us,  —  it  matters  little  from  what  prin- 
ciple our  faith  in  testimony  may  primarily  have  flowed :  for 
there  is  surely  no  one  who  will  contend,  that,  in  such  a 
case,  we  should  be  led  by  any  principle  of  our  nature  to 
credit  that  which  appeared  to  us,  at  the  very  time  at  which 
we  gave  it  our  assent,  unworthy  of  being  credited,  or,  in 
other  words,  less  likely  to  be  true  than  to  be  false. 

Whether  it  be  to  experience  that  we  owe  our  belief  of 
testimony  in  general,  or  whether  we  owe  to  it  only  our 
knowledge  of  the  possibilities  of  error  or  imposition,  which 
makes  us  hesitate  in  admitting  any  particular  testimony,  is 
of  no  consequence  then  to  our  belief,  in  the  years  in  which 
we  are  called  to  be  the  judges  of  the  likelihood  of  any  ex- 
traordinary event  that  is  related  to  us.  It  is  enough  that  we 
know,  as  after  a  very  few  years  of  life  we  cannot  fail  to  know, 
that  it  is  possible  for  the  reporter  to  be  imperfectly  acquainted 
with  the  truth  of  what  he  states,  or  capable  of  wishing  to 
deceive  us.  Before  giving  our  complete  assent  to  any  miir- 
vellous  tale,  we  always  weigh  prol)ability  against  probability; 
and  if,  after  weigliing  these,  it  ajipear  to  us  more  likely,  on 
the  whole,  that  the  information  is  false,  than  that  the  event 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES-  487 

^as  really  happened,  in  the  manner  reported,  we  should  not 
think  ourselves  in  the  slightest  degree  more  bound  to  admit 
the  accuracy  of  the  narrative,  though  a  thousand  arguments 
were  urged,  far  more  convincing  than  any  which  have  yet 
been  offered,  to  persuade  us,  that  there  is  an  original  tendency 
in  the  mind,  before  experience,  to  believe  whatever  is  related, 
without  even  the  sHghtest  feeling  of  doubt,  and  consequently 
without  any  attempt  to  form  an  estimate  of  its  degree  of 
probability. 

It  is  not  in  any  miscalculation,  then,  of  the  force  of  general 
testimony,  whether  original  or  derived,  that  the  error  of  Mr. 
Hume's  abstract  argument  consists.  It  lies  far  deeper,  in  the 
false  definition  of  a  miracle,  which  he  has  given,  as  "  a  viola- 
tion of  the  laws  of  nature  " ;  —  a  definition  which  is  accordant, 
indeed,  with  the  definitions  that  have  been  usually  given  of  it 
by  theologians,  but  is  not  on  that  account  more  accurate  and 
precise,  as  a  philosophic  expression  of  the  phenomena  in- 
tended to  be,  expressed  by  it.  To  the  theologian  himself  it  is, 
I  conceive,  peculiarly  dangerous ;  because,  while  it  makes  it 
essential  to  the  reality  of  a  miracle,  that  the  very  principle 
of  continued  uniformity  of  sequence  should  be  false,  on  which 
our  whole  belief  of  causation,  and  consequently  of  the  Divine 
Being  as  an  operator,  is  founded,  it  gives  an  air  of  incon- 
sistency, and  almost  of  absurdity,  to  the  very  assertion  of  a 
miracle,  and  at  the  same  time  deprives  the  doctrine  of  mira- 
cles of  its  principal  support  against  an  argument,  which,  if  his 
definition  of  them  were  philosophically  a  just  one,  Mr.  Hume 
must  be  allowed  to  have  urged  very  powerfully  against  them. 

In  mere  philosophy,  however,  the  definition,  though  we 
were  to  consider  it,  without  any  theological  view,  simply  as 
the  expression  of  certain  phenomena  of  a  very  peculiar  kind, 
is  far  from  being  just.  The  laws  of  nature,  surely,  are  not 
violated,  when  a  new  antecedent  is  followed  by  a  new  conse- 
quent; they  are  violated  only  when,  the  antecedent  being 
3xactly  the  same,  a  different  consequent  is  the  result :  and  it 
tuch  a  violation  —  which,  as  long  as  it  is  a  part  of  our  very 
constitution  to  be  impressed  with  an  irresistible  belief  of  the 


488  'IflE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES. 

uniformity  of  the  order  of  nature,  may  be  said  to  involve, 
relatively  to  this  belief,  a  physical  contradiction  —  were 
necessarily  implied  in  a  miracle,  I  do  not  see  how  the  testi- 
mony of  any  number  of  witnesses,  the  wisest,  and  most  hon- 
orable, and  least  interested  from  apy  personal  motive  in  the 
truth  of  wdiat  they  report,  could  afford  evidence  of  a  miracle 
that  might  amount  to  proof.  The  concurring  statements 
might,  perhaps,  be  sufficient  to  justify  a  suspension  of  judg- 
ment between  belief  and  disbelief;  but  this  suspension  is  the 
utmost  which  the  evidence  of  a  fact  so  monstrous  as  the  se- 
quence of  a  different  consequent  when  the  antecedent  had. 
been  exactly  the  same,  could  reasonably  claim.  "When  we 
ha\  e  once  brought  our  mind  to  believe  in  the  violation  of  the 
laws  of  nature,  we  cannot  know  what  we  should  either  be- 
lieve or  disbelieve,  as  to  the  successions  of  events ;  since  we 
must,  in  that  case,  have  abandoned  for  the  time  the  only  prin- 
ciple on  which  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  founded: 
and,  however  constant  the  connection  of  truth  with  testimony, 
in  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  may  be,  it  cannot  be 
more,  though  it  may  be  less,  constant  than  the  connection  of 
any  other  physical  phenomena,  which  have  been,  by  suppo- 
sition, unvaried  in  their  order  of  sequence,  till  the  very 
moment  of  that  supposed  violation  of  their  order  in  which 
the  miracle  is  said  to  consist. 

Let  us  suppose  a  witness,  of  the  most  honorable  character, 
to  state  to  us  a  fact,  with  wliich  he  had  every  opportunity  of 
being  peifectly  acquainted,  and  in  stating  which  he  could  not 
have  any  interest  to  deceive  us,  but  might,  on  tl»e  contrary, 
subject  himself  to  much  injury  by  the  pubhc  declaration  ;  — 
it  must  be  allowed,  that  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  improbable 
that  his  statement  shouhl  be  false.  To  express  this  improba- 
bility in  the  strongest  possible  manner,  let  us  admit  that  the 
falsehood  of  his  statement,  in  such  circumstances,  would  be 
an  absolute  miracle,  and  therefore,  according  to  the  delinition 
that  is  given  of  a  miracle,  would  be  a  violation  of  a  law  o< 
nature.  It  would  be  a  miracle,  then,  if,  in  opposition  to  his 
former  veracity  and  to  his  own  interest  io  the  case  supposed, 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES.  489 

he  should  wish  to  deceive  us ;  but  if  it  be  a  miracle,  also, 
wliich  he  asserts  to  have  taken  place,  we  must,  equally 
whether  we  credit  or  do  not  credit  his  report,  believe  that  a 
law  of  nature  has  been  violated,  by  the  sequence  of  an  un- 
accustomed effect  after  an  accustomed  cause  ;  and  if  we  must 
believe  such  a  change  as  constitutes  an  absolute  violation  of 
some  law  of  nature,  in  either  case,  it  is  impossible  to  discover, 
in  the  previous  equal  uniformity  of  nature  in  both  cases,  — 
without  the  belief  of  which  regular  order  of  sequence  we 
cannot  form  the  notion  of  physical  probabilities  at  all,  —  any 
ground  of  preference  of  one  of  these  violations  to  the  other. 

Though  we  were  to  admit,  then,  to  testimony  in  general  all 
the  force  for  which  Dr.  Campbell  and  other  writers  have  so 
laboriously,  and,  as  I  conceive,  in  relation  to  the  present  argu- 
ment, so  vainly  contended,  —  and  though  we  were  to  imagine 
every  possible  circumstance  favorable  to  the  veracity  of  the 
reporter  to  be  combined,  —  the  utmost  that  can  be  implied  in 
the  admission  is,  that  it  Avould  be  a  violation  of  a  law  of 
nature,  if  the  testimony  were  false ;  but  if  it  would  not  be 
more  so  than  the  alleged  violation  of  a  law  of  nature  con- 
cerning which  the  testimony  is  offered,  and  if,  beyond  the 
uniformity  of  antecedence  and  consequence  in  the  events  of 
the  universe,  we  cannot  form  a  notion  of  any  power  what- 
ever, a  suspension  of  judgment,  and  not  positive  belief,  in  a 
case,  in  which,  before  we  can  believe  either  of  the  violations, 
we  must  have  abandoned  the  very  principle  on  which  our 
whole  system  of  physical  belief  is  founded,  is  all  which  the 
propounder  of  a  miracle,  in  this  view  of  it,  can  be  supposed 
reasonably  to  demand. 

It  would  be  vain,  in  such  a  case  of  supposed  opposite  mira- 
cles, to  endeavor  to  multiply  the  improbabilities  on  one  side, 
and  thus  to  obtain  a  preference,  by  counting  the  number  of 
separate  witnesses,  all  wise,  all  possessing  the  means  of  accu- 
rate information,  all  honorable  men,  and  all  perfectly  disin- 
terested, or  having  personal  motives  thatj  if  they  were  less 
honorable,  would  lead  them  rather  to  refrain  from  giving 
evidence ;  since  the  only  effect  of  this  combination  of  evidence 


490  THE    CREDIBILITY   OF   MIRACLES. 

would  be  to  add  to  the  probability  of  the' statement,  which,  if 
once  we  have  admitted  the  falsehood  of  it  to  be  miraculous,  is 
already  as  great  as  it  is  possible  to  be.  It  is  a  miracle,  that 
one  witness,  who  has  had  perfect  opportunities  of  accurate 
observation,  and  every  motive  of  personal  interest  to  give  a 
true  representation  of  an  event,  should  yet,  in  opposition  to 
his  own  interest,  prefer  to  give  a  false  account  of  it.  That  a 
hundred,  or  a  thousand,  or  a  hundred  thousand  witnesses, 
should,  in  the  same  circumstances,  concur  in  the  same  false 
account,  would  be  a  miracle  indeed,  but  it  would  only  be  a 
miracle  still.  Of  probability  there  are  many  degrees,  from 
that  which  is  merely  possible  to  that  which  is  almost  certain ; 
but  the  miraculous  does  not  admit  of  gradation.  Nobody 
thinks  that  the  conversion  of  water  into  wine  at  the  marriage- 
feast  in  Galilee  would  have  been  a  greater  miracle  if  the 
quantity  of  transmuted  water  had  been  doubled ;  and  a  com- 
mentator would  surely  render  himself  a  little  ridiculous,  who, 
in  descanting  on  the  passage  of  the  Israelites  through  the 
Red  Sea,  should  speak  of  the  myriads  of  liquid  particles  of 
the  mass  that  were  prevented  from  following  their  usual 
course,  as  rendering  more  miraculous  the  passage  itself,  than 
if  the  number  of  drops  had  been  less  by  a  few  scores  or  hun- 
dreds. But  if  this  numerical  calculation  would  be  absurd  in 
the  one  case,  when  applied  to  a  number  of  particles  of  matter, 
each  of  which,  individually,  may  be  considered  as  exhibiting 
the  influence  of  a  miraculous  interposition  of  a  Power  sur- 
passing the  ordinary  powers  of  nature,  it  is  surely  not  less 
absurd,  when  applied  to  a  number  of  minds,  in  each  of  which, 
in  like  manner,  a  violation  of  an  accustomed  law  of  nature  is 
supposed.  It  is  a  miracle,  that  one  drop  of  water  should 
become  wine :  it  is  a  miracle,  that  a  thousand  drops  of  water 
should  be  so  changed.  It  is  a  miracle,  that  a  single  witness, 
with  many  motives  to  declare  the  truth,  and  not  one  motive  to 
utter  a  falsehood,  should  yet,  with  great  peril  to  himself, 
prefer  to  be  an  impostor:  it  is  a  miracle,  that  a  thousand 
witnesses,  with  the  same  motives,  should  concur,  at  the  same 
risky  in  the  same  strange  preference.    In  miracles  there  are 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES.  491 

truly,  as  I  have  said,  no  degrees.  The  Deity  either  must  act 
or  not  act,  —  or,  according  to  the  false  definition  which  I  am 
opposing,  a  law  of  nature  must  either  be  violated  or  not  vio- 
lated. There  may  be  less  than  a  miracle ;  but  there  cannot 
be  more  than  a  miracle. 

As  long  as  a  miracle  is  defined  to  be  a  violation  of  the  law 
of  nature,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  it  should  shock  our  strong- 
est principles  of  belief;  since  it  must  require  from  us  the 
abandonment,  for  the  time,  of  the  only  principle  by  which  we 
have  been  led  to  the  belief  of  any  power  whatever,  either  in 
God  himself,  or  in  the  things  which  he  has  created  ;  —  while, 
at  the  same  time,  it  is  defined  to  be  that  which  must,  by  the 
very  terms  of  the  definition,  be  as  improbable  as  false  testi- 
mony can  be  in  any  circumstances.  It  may  be  less,  but  it 
cannot  be  more,  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  miracle,  that  we 
should  be  deceived  by  the  testimony  of  the  best  and  wisest  of 
mankind,  as  to  a  fact  of  which  they  had  means  of  the  most 
accurate  knowledge,  than  that  any  other  event  should  have 
happened,  which  is  admitted  by  the  reporters  of  it  to  be  a 
violation  of  the  order  of  nature,  as  complete  as  the  falsehood 
of  the  testimony  which  reports  it  to  us,  in  these  or  in  any 
circumstances,  itself  could  be. 

With  Mr.  Hume's  view  of  the  nature  of  a  miracle,  then, 
—  if  we  rashly  give  our  assent  to  his  definition,  —  it  seems 
to  me  not  very  easy  to  get  the  better  of  his  sceptical  argu- 
ment. The  very  assertion  of  a  violation  of  a  law  of  nature 
is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  assertion  of  something  that  is  incon- 
sistent with  every  principle  of  our  physical  faith :  and,  after 
giving  all  the  weigh*  which  it  is  possible  to  give  to  the  evi- 
dence of  concurring  witnesses,  with  the  best  means  of  knowl- 
edg-e,  and  no  motives  of  interest  that  could  lead  them  to  wish 
to  deceive,  we  may  perhaps  succeed  in  bringing  one  miracle 
against  another,  —  the  miracle  of  their  falsehood  against  the 
physical  miracle  reported  by  them,  —  but  we  cannot  do  more 
than  tliis :  we  cannot  render  it  less  a  violation  of  a  law  of 
nature,  —  and  less  inconsistent,  therefore,  with  the  principle, 
wUch,  both  speculatively  and  practically,  has  guided  us  in  all 


492  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    MIRACLES. 

our  views  of  the  sequences  of  events,  —  that  the  reported 
miracle  should  have  happened,  than  that  the  j^age,  and  amia- 
ble, and  disinterested  reporters  should  knowingly  and  inten- 
tionally have  labored  to  deceive  us. 

The  definition,  however,  which  asserts  this  apparent  incon- 
sistency with  our  experience,  is  not  a  just  one.  A  miracle  is 
not  a  violation  of  any  law  of  nature.  It  involves,  therefore, 
primarily,  no  contiadiction,  nor  j)liysical  absurdity.  It  has 
nothing  in  it  which  is  inconsistent  with  our  belief  of  the  most 
undeviating  uniformity  of  nature:  for  it  is  not  the  sequence  of 
a  different  event  when  the  preceding  circumstances  have  been 
the  same ;  it  is  an  effect  that  is  new  to  our  observation,  be- 
cause it  is  the  result  of  new  and  peculiar  circumstances.  Tho 
antecedent  has  been,  by  supposition,  different ;  and  it  is  not; 
wonderful,  therefore,  that  the  consequent  also  should  be 
different. 

While  every  miracle  is  to  be  considered  as  the  result  of  an 
extraordinary  antecedent,  —  since  it  flows  directly  from  a 
Lighoi  power  than  is  accustomed  to  operate  in  the  common 
trains  of  events  which  come  beneath  our  view,  —  the  se- 
quence which  it  displays  may  be  regarded,  indeed,  as  out  of 
the  common  course  of  nature,  but  not  as  contrary  to  that 
oourse ;  any  more  than  any  other  new  result  of  new  combi- 
nations of  physical  circumstances  can  be  said  to  be  contrary 
to  the  course  of  events,  to  which,  from  the  absolute  novelty 
of  the  circumstances,  it  has  truly  no  relation  whatever,  either 
of  agreement  or  disagreement.  If  we  suppose  any  one,  who 
is  absolutely  unacquainted  with  electrical  apptiratus  and  the 
stmnge  phenomena  which  that  apparatus  can  be  made  to 
evolve,  to  put  his  hand  accidentally  near  a  charged  conductor, 
80  as  to  receive  from  it  a  slight  shock,  though  his  sensation 
may  be  different  from  any  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed, 
'^e  do  not  believe  that  he  will  on  that  account  consider  it  as  a 
I  lOof  of  a  violation  of  a  law  of  nature,  but  only  as  the  effect 
cf  something  which  was  unknown  to  him  before,  and  which 
he  will  conceive  therefore  to  be  of  rare  occurrence.  In  a 
miracle,  in  like  manner,  nothing  more  is  to  be  supposed.     It 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    MIRACLES.  493 

is  llie  Divine  will,  that,  preceding  it  immediately,  is  tlie 
cause  of  the  extraordinary  effect  which  we  term  miraculous ; 
and  whatever  may  be  the  new  consequent  of  the  new  ante- 
cedent, the  course  of  nature  is  as  little  violated  by  it,  as  it 
was  violated  by  the  electrician  who  for  the  first  time  drew 
hghtning  from  the  clouds,  or  by  the  aeronaut  who  first  as- 
cended to  a  region  of  the  air  of  more  ethereal  purity  than 
that  which  allows  the  gross  substance  of  a  cloud  to  float  in  it. 
The  Highest  of  all  powers,  of  whose  mighty  agency  the 
universe  which  sprung  from  it  affords  evidence  so  magnificent, 
has  surely  not  ceased  to  be  one  of  the  powers  of  nature,  be- 
cause every  other  power  is  exercised  only  in  delegatea  and 
feeble  subordination  to  his  omnipotence.  He  is  the  greatest 
of  all  the  powers  of  nature ;  but  he  is  still  one  of  the  powers 
of  nature,  as  much  as  any  other  power,  whose  houily  or 
momentary  operation  is  most  familiar  to  us  :  —  and  it  must 
be  a  very  false  philosophy  indeed,  which  would  exclude  his 
omnipotent  will  from  the  number  of  powers,  or  assert  any 
extraordinary  appearances,  that  may  have  flowed  from  his 
agency,  to  be  violations  of  an  order,  in  which  the  ordinary 
sequences  were  different  before,  because  the  ordinary  ante- 
cedents in  all  former  time  were  different.  There  may  be,  or 
there  may  not  be,  reason  —  for  this  is  a  different  question  — 
to  believe,  that  the  Deity  has,  for  any  particular  purpose, 
condescended  to  reveal  himself  as  the  direct  producer  of 
phenomena  that  are  out  of  the  usual  course  of  nature  ;  but, 
since  we  are  wholly  unacquainted  with  any  limits  to  his 
power,  and  cannot  form  any  notion,  therefore,  of  events,  as 
more  or  less  fitted  to  be  the  physical  consequents  of  his  will 
to  produce  them,  it  would  evidently  be  absurd  for  us  to  speak 
of  any  phenomenon  that  is  said  to  be  consequent  on  his  will, 
as  a  violation  of  the  natural  order  of  the  phenomena  that 
might  be  expected  to  flow  from  an  energy,  of  the  transcendent 
extent  of  whose  operation  we  are  ignorant,  and  know  only, 
that  it  is  worthy  of  a  reverent  and  grateful  admiration,  far 
surpassing  what  our  hearts,  in  the  feebleness  of  their  worship, 
are  capable  of  offering  to  it. 
42 


41)4  THE    CREDIBILITY   OF   MIRACLES. 

The  shock  of  an  earthquake,  and  the  descent  of  stones 
from  the  sky,  are  not  regarded  as  violations  of  any  law  of 
nature,  though  they  are  phenomena  of  very  rare  occurrence, 
whicli  require  a  peculiar  combination  of  the  circumstances 
that  physically  precede  them.  What  these  circumstances  are, 
the  witnesses  of  the  resulting  phenomena  may  be  wholly  un- 
able to  state ;  but  as  they  have  been  witnesses  of  the  great 
results,  they  know  at  least,  that  the  necessary  combination, 
whatever  it  may  have  been,  must  previously  have  taken 
place.  By  the  assertors  of  a  miracle,  the  same  necessity  is 
always  su[)posed.  They  do  not  contend,  that,  when  the  ex- 
traordinary event,  which  they  term  miraculous,  happened,  the 
%  previous  circumstances  were  the  same  as  at  other  times,  when 
no  such  event  was  consequent ;  any  more  than  a  meteorolo- 
gist contends,  that,  when  stones  fall  from  the  air,  the  previous 
circumstances,  however  much  their  difterence  may  have  been 
beyond  his  power  of  observation,  were  absolutely  the  same 
as  in  the  fall  of  rain  or  snow,  or  in  any  other  phenomenon  of 
the  atmosphere  that  is  more  familiar  to  us.  On  the  contrary, 
they  contend  that  the  difference  of  the  effect  —  as  proved 
by  the  evidence  of  their  senses,  or  of  indubitable  testimony, 
in  the  same  way  as  the  truth  of  any  other  rare  phenomenon 
is  established  —  implies  an  extraordinary  cause :  and  since 
all  the  circumstances  of  which  the  mere  senses  could  judge, 
previously  to  the  miracle,  were  the  same  as  hiid  frequently 
existed  before,  without  any  such  marvellous  result,  they  suj)- 
pose  the  difference  to  have  been  in  something  which  was 
beyond  the  sphere  of  the  perceptive  organs,  and  have  re- 
course to  the  Divine  volition,  as  a  power  of  which  the 
universe  itself  marks  the  existence,  and  which,  in  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  it  seems  most  reasonable  to  con- 
sider as  the  antecedent  of  the  extraordinary  effect. 

That  a  quantity  of  gunpowder,  apparently  as  inert  as  the 
dust  on  which  we  tread,  should  suddenly  turn  into  a  force  of 
the  most  destructive  kind,  all  the  previous  circumstances  con- 
tinuing exactly  the  same,  would  be  indeed  contrary  to  tho 
course  of  nature,  but  it  would  not  be  contrary  to  it,  if  the 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES.  493 

change  were  preceded  by  the  application  of  a  spark.  It 
would  not  be  more  so,  if  the  antecedent  were  any  other 
existing  power,  of  equal  efficacy ;  and  the  physical  influence 
which  we  ascribe  to  a  single  spark,  it  would  surely  not  be  too 
much  to  claim  for  tliat  Being,  to  whom  we  have  been  led  by 
the  most  convincing  evidence  to  refer  the  very  existence  of 
the  explosive  mass  itself,  and  of  all  the  surrounding  bodies  on 
which  it  operates,  and  who  has  not  a  less  powerful  empire 
over  nature  now,  than  he  had  at  the  very  moment  at  which  it 
arose,  and  was  what  he  willed  it  to  be. 

To  that  Almighty  Power  the  kindling  of  a  mass  of  gun- 
powder, to  which  our  humble  skill  is  adequate,  is  not  more 
easy,  than  any  of  the  wonders  which  we  term  miraculous. 
Whatever  he  wills  to  exist,  flows  naturally  from  that  very 
will.  Events  of  this  kind,  therefore,  if  truly  taking  place, 
would  be  only  the  operation  of  one  of  the  acknowledged 
powers  of  nature,  producing  indeed  what  no  other  power 
might  be  capable  of  producing,  but  what  would  deserve  as 
much  to  be  considered  as  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
power  from  which  it  flows,  as  any  other  phenomenon  to  be 
regarded  as  the  natural  consequence  of  its  particular  ante- 
cedent. In  the  assertion  of  a  miracle,  therefore,  whatever 
other  reasons  of  doubt  there  may  or  may  not  be  in  any  par- 
ticular case,  there  is  no  longer  the  primary  physical  absurd- 
ity of  a  violation  of  a  law  of  nature  to  be  brought  against 
the  physical  absurdity  of  another  violation  of  a  law  of  nature, 
—  or  of  the  asserted  agency  of  a  particular  power,  as  marked 
by  a  breach  of  that  very  order  the  uniformity  of  which  is  all 
that  constitutes  our  very  notion  of  power  itself.  Every  law 
of  nature  continues  as  it  was ;  for  every  antecedent  has  its 
ordinary  effect.  We  have  only  physical  probabilities  to  be 
weighed  "v^'ith  physical  probabilities,  precisely  as  in  any  other 
case  in  which  any  very  extraordinary  event  is  related  to  us ; 
and  according  as  the  difference  of  these  is  gi-eater  or  less,  our 
doubt  or  belief  or.  disbelief  is  to  be  the  result. 

The  argument  of  Mr.  Hume,  in  the  only  part  of  his  Essay 
that  is  of  importance  in  the  philosophy  of  general  belief,  is 


496  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES. 

an  abstr.'ict  one ;  and  it  is  not  the  object  of  the  present  Note 
to  enter  into  an  historical  and  logical  review  of  the  proba 
bility  or  improbability  of  any  particular  miracles,  but  only  to 
consider  that  abstract  argument,  in  the  universal  application 
which  its  ingenious  author  was  inclined  to  make  of  it,  as 
sufficient,  of  itself,  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  examining  the 
evidence  of  any  miracle  whatever,  even  in  circumstances 
which,  if  the  event  related  had  been  of  any  other  kind, 
would  have  been  regarded  as  in  the  highest  degree  favorable 
to  the  veracity  of  the  reporters. 

The  assertor  of  a  miracle  —  according  to  the  view  which 
I  have  taken  of  it,  and  which  it  seems  to  me  impossible  not 
to  take  of  it,  if  the  phenomenon  to  which  that  name  is  given 
be  minutely  analyzed  —  is  not  the  assertor  of  a  violation  of 
any  law  of  nature.  What  he  asserts  is  the  operation  of  a 
power  that  must  be  allowed  to  have  existed  truly  at  the  mo- 
ment of  the  alleged  miraculous  event,  whether  we  admit  or 
do  not  admit  that  particular  operation,  —  the  greatest  of  all 
existing  powers,  since  it  is  by  it  alone  that  every  other  power 
of  nature  is  what  it  is,  —  and  of  which,  as  of  not  less  irre- 
sistible dominion  now  than  it  was  in  the  moment  of  the 
original  Creative  will,  what  we  term  the  laws  of  nature  are 
nothing  more  than  the  continued  manifestation. 

If,  indeed,  the  assertor  of  a  miracle  had  to  combat  with  an 
atheist,  it  will  be  allowed  that  the  conditions  of  the  reasoning 
would  be  changed,  and  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to 
obviate  the  force  of  the  abstract  negative  argument,  till  he 
had  previously  established  the  truth  of  the  first  principles  of 
theism  ;  —  as  little  possible,  as  it  would  be  to  prove  lightning 
to  be  an  electrical  phenomenon  to  one  who  persisted  in  the 
denial  of  such  a  power  as  electricity.  A  miracle  is  stated  to 
be  the  result  of  the  operation  of  one  of  the  powers  of  nature, 
whose  very  existence  is  denied  by  the  atheist;  and  if  the 
existence  of  the  power  itself  be  denied,  the  operation  of  that 
power  in  any  case  must  also  be  denied.  To  the  conception 
of  an  atheist,  therefore,  every  miracle  would  be  truly  a  viola- 
tion of  a  law  of  nature,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  that  phrase, 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    MIRACLES.  497 

and  would  of  course  involve  all  the  physical  absurdity  that  is 
implied  in  such  a  violation:  the  antecedent  would  seem  to 
him  the  same,  while  the  consequent  was  asserted  to  be  dif- 
ferent ;  because  in  his  denial  of  the  existence  of  any  super- 
human power  is  involved  the  denial  of  that  new  antecedent 
from  which  the  miracle,  as  itself  a  new  consequent,  is  sup- 
posed physically  to  flow,  like  any  other  physical  consequent 
of  any  other  antecedent. 

If,  however,  the  existence  of  the  Deity  be  admitted,  and, 
with  his  existence,  the  possibility  of  his  agency,  in  circum- 
stances in  which  it  would  be  more  for  the  advantage  of  his 
creatures  that  he  should  operate,  than  that  he  should  abstain 
from  operating,  —  the  possible  occurrence  of  which  circum- 
stances can  be  denied  only  by  those  who  profess  that  they  are 
capable  of  comprehending  the  infinite  relations  of  events,  and 
thus  of  ascertaining  exactly,  in  every  case,  what  would  be 
more  or  less  for  the  happiness  of  the  universe,  —  then  is  the 
evidence  of  his  asserted  agency  to  be  regarded  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  evidence  of  any  other  extraordinary  event, 
that  is  supposed  to  have  resulted  from  any  other  new  com- 
bination of  physical  circumstances.  It  is  to  be  met,  not  with 
a  positive  denial,  nor  with  a  refusal  to  examine  it,  but  with  a 
cautious  slowness  of  assent,  proportioned  to  the  extraordinari- 
ness  of  the  marvellous  phenomenon.  Strong,  and  closely 
bordering  on  disbelief,  as  our  first  feeling  of  doubt  may  be,  it 
is  still  necessary,  before  we  think  ourselves  authorized  to 
disbelieve,  that  we  should  examine  what,  even  though  at  first 
it  may  seem  to  us  little  worthy  of  being  credited,  may  not  on 
that  account  be  positively  false  ;  and  if,  on  examination,  we 
find  the  evidence  to  be  such,  that  we  could  not  hesitate  in 
admitting  it,  if  it  had  related  to  any  other  species  of  extraor- 
dinary event,  the  result  of  any  other  combination  of  physi- 
cal circumstances,  so  rare  as  never  before  to  have  been 
recorded  by  any  observer,  we  surely  cannot  think  ourselves 
justified  in  rejecting  it  altogether,  because  the  physical  power 
to  whose  agency  it  is  supposed  to  bear  witness,  is  the  greatest 
of  all  the  powers  of  nature. 
42* 


498  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES. 

In  this  discussion,  we  are  never  to  forget,  what  I  have 
ah-eady  frequently  repeated,  that  a  miracle,  if  it  truly  take 
place,  far  from  violating  any  physical  law,  is,  in  the  peculiar 
circumstances  in  which  it  takes  place,  the  natural  result  of 
the  operation  of  a  physical  power,  as  much  as  any  other  rare 
phenomenon ;  and  we  may,  therefore,  derive  some  light,  in 
our  inquiry,  from  the  consideration  of  the  frame  of  mind 
with  which  we  receive  the  narrative  of  any  other  physical 
event,  so  extraordinary  as  to  be  altogether  new  to  our  ex- 
perience. 

When  we  first  heard  of  the  fall  of  stones  from  the  sky, 
there  was  considerable  slowness  to  admit  the  fact ;  and  this 
slowness,  in  such  circumstances,  it  will  be  allowed,  was  ac- 
cordant with  the  spirit  of  sound  philosophy.  But  after  the 
concurring  reports  of  many  creditable  witnesses,  have  we 
remained  incredulous,  because  a  meteor  so  very  strange  may 
never  have  come  under  our  own  observation,  —  though  for 
year  after  year,  in  every  season  and  in  every  seeming  variety 
of  heat  and  light  and  moisture,  we  may  have  been  most  w^atch- 
ful  observers  of  all  the  changes  of  the  atmosphere  ?  There 
is  not  a  philosopher,  whatever  theory  he  may  have  formed  of 
their  origin,  who  is  not  now  convinced  that  such  bodies  have 
truly  fallen  on  the  surface  of  our  earth :  —  and  why  is  he 
convinced  ?  It  is  because  the  extraordinary  fact,  which  has 
probably  never  come  under  his  own  observation,  has  been 
attested  by  many  witnesses,  able  to  form  a  judgment  of  it, 
and  having  no  motive  of  interest  to  give  a  false  report.  But 
the  power  that  is  capable  of  working  miracles  is  a  power  that 
must  be  believed  to  (jxist,  as  truly  as  the  power,  or  combina- 
tion of  powers,  in  the  upper  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  or 
nlx)ve  our  atmosphere,  by  which  we  suppose  tiie  aerolite  to 
be  produced.  The  event  which  we  term  miraculous,  if  there 
truly  be  such  an  event,  is  as  natural  a  result  of  his  operation 
in  particular  circumstances,  as  the  aerolite  of  the  rare  com- 
bination of  circumstances  in  wliich  that  peculiar  atmospherical 
phenomenon  has  its  origin.  If  the  testimony  of  many  siige 
and  disinterested  witnesses  be  culpable  of  proving  the  one,  it 


niE    CREDIBILITY    OF    MIRACLES.  499 

IS  equally  capable  of  proving  the  other.  The  extraordinari- 
ness  of  the  event,  in  both  cases,  should  indeed,  as  I  before 
said,  make  us  peculiarly  cautious  in  examining  the  evidence 
on  which  it  is  asserted ;  it  affords,  in  the  first  statement  of  the 
fact,  a  presumptive  improbability  ;  and  if  this  strong  primary 
doubt,  which,  without  amounting  to  disbelief,  might  in  various 
circumstances  approximate  to  it,  were  all  for  which  Mr. 
Hume's  argument  had  contended,  there  would  have  been 
little  reason  to  dissent  from  his  doctrine.  But  the  extraor- 
dinariness,  though  demanding  greater  caution,  does  not,  of 
itself,  furnish  counter-evidence.  Above  all,  it  does  not  entitle 
us  to  say  at  once,  that  whatever  evidence  can  be  offered  on 
the  subject  is  unworthy  of  our  examination.  We  have  still 
to  examine  the  evidence  of  the  extraordinary  physical  facts 
that  are  termed  miracles,  as  we  have  to  examine  the  evidence 
of  any  other  extraordinary  physical  facts,  that  are  reported 
to  us  under  any  other  name. 

He  who  was  able  to  form  the  universe  as  it  is,  and  to  give 
life  to  man  and  everything  which  lives,  may  be  presumed,  if 
such  be  his  pleasure,  to  be  capable  of  giving  life  to  a  body 
that  lies  before  us  in  death,  inert  and  insensible  indeed  at 
present,  but  not  more  inert  and  insensible  than  the  mass 
which  was  first  animated  with  a  living  soul.  God  exists, 
then  ;  his  power  is  ever  present  with  us ;  and  it  is  capable  of 
performing  all  which  we  term  miraculous.  We  may  be 
assured,  indeed,  —  for  this  the  regularity  of  the  apparent 
sequences  of  phenomena  justifies  us  in  believing, —  that  he 
will  not  himself  appear  as  the  direct  operator  of  any  wonder- 
ful change,  unless  for  some  gracious  purpose,  like  that  which 
led  him  originally  to  the  performance  of  the  first  miracle  that 
produced  everything  which  exists  before  us.  But,  as  he 
operated  then,  he  may  operate  again  ;  from  a  similar  gracious 
purpose  we  may  infer  a  similar  result  of  benefit  to  the  world  ; 
and  it  certainly  would  be  a  most  unwarrantable  argument, 
which,  on  the  acknowledged  fact  of  one  great  miracle  of  crea- 
tion, would  found  a  reason  for  asserting  that  no  miracle  is 
afterwards  to  be  credited,  and  from  the  many  provisions  for 


500  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES. 

existing  happiness  infer  that  He  whose  beneficence  at  one 
time  operated  in  the  production  of  these,  cannot  be  reason- 
ably expected  at  any  other  time  to  do  what,  by  supposition, 
it  would  be  for  the  happiness  of  the  world  that  he  should  do. 
It  is  essential,  indeed,  for  our  belief  of  any  miraculous 
event,  that  there  should  be  the  appearance  of  some  gracious 
purpose,  which  the  miracle  may  be  su{)posed  to  fulfil ;  since 
all  which  we  know  of  the  operation  of  the  Divine  power  in 
the  universe,  indicates  some  previous  purpose  of  that  kind. 
In  our  own  nature,  and  in  everything  that  exists  around  us> 
and  that  is  capable  of  affecting  us  in  any  way,  there  is  proof 
of  the  existence  of  a  Divine  operator,  and  of  the  connection 
of  a  beneficent  design  with  his  operation,  as  much  as,  in  any 
other  physical  sequence  of  events,  there  is  proof  of  a  perma- 
nent relation  of  any  other  antecedent  to  any  other  consC' 
quent.  The  same  principle,  then,  which  leads  us  to  expect 
the  light  of  another  day  from  the  rising  of  the  morrow's  sun 
above  the  horizon,  or,  in  a  case  more  analogous  because  more 
extraordinary,  the  fall  of  a  stone  from  the  sky,  if  the  cir- 
cumstances should  recur  which  are  necessary  for  the  produc- 
tion of  that  rare  meteor,  would  justify  our  expectation  of  the 
still  rarer  phenomena  which  are  termed  miracles,  if  we  had 
reason  to  believe,  at  any  time,  that  circumstances  had  oc- 
curred, in  which  the  happiness  that  was  in  the  view  of  the 
Divine  mind,  in  the  original  mimcle  of  creation,  would  be 
promoted  by  a  renewal  of  his  mighty  agency.  It  will  be 
acknowledged,  indeed,  that,  from  our  ignorance  of  tlie  wide 
relations  of  events,  we  are  very  ill  qualified  to  judge  accu- 
rately of  such  circumstances.  But  though  we  may  be  very 
likely  to  be  mistaken  in  determining  them,  it  is  not  the  less 
true,  that  such  circumstances  may  exist ;  and  that,  in  that 
case,  the  denial  of  the  probability  of  a  miracle  would  itself  be 
inconsistent  with  belief  of  that  very  principle  of  uniformity, 
from  wiiich  the  experience  that  is  said  to  be  opposed  to 
miracles  derives  its  whole  force, —  the  principle  according  to 
which  we  believe,  that,  in  all  similar  circumstances,  what  has 
been  once  will  be  again. 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES.  501 

If  the  creation  of  man  was  an  act  that  was  worthy  of  the 
Divinity,  it  was  worthy  on  account  of  its  object ;  and  if  other 
miracles  tend  to  the  same  great  object,  they  surely  were  not 
excluded  by  that  primary  miracle,  with  the  beneficent  purpose 
of  which  they  are  in  harmony.  Is  there  any  reason  which 
can  be  urged,  a  priori,  to  show,  that  a  power  which  operated 
once  is  therefore  never  to  operate  again,  and  that  it  would  be 
unworthy  of  Him  who  surrounded  his  creatures  with  so  many 
means  of  increasing  happiness,  and  endowed  them  with  facul- 
ties of  progressive  advancement  in  knowledge,  to  give  them, 
when  a  portion  of  that  progress  was  completed,  a  revelation 
of  truths  of  a  higher  order,  by  which  they  might  become  still 
more  wise  and  happy  ?  And  if  it  wo.uld  not  be  unworthy  of 
Him  who  loved  mankind,  to  favor  them  with  such  views  of 
his  moral  government  of  the  world,  and  of  the  futurity  that 
awaits  them,  as  might  have  this  salutary  influence,  it  could 
not  be  unworthy  of  Him  to  sanction  his  revelation  by  dis- 
plays of  extraordinary  power,  that  might  be  sufficient  to  mark 
the  high  Author  from  whom  it  came.  God  exists  :  that  he 
has  deigned  to  operate,  the  whole  universe,  which  is  the 
result  of  that  operation,  shows;  —  and  it  shows,  too,  that 
when  he  did  thus  deign  to  operate  in  that  greatest  of  all 
miracles,  which  the  sagest  and  most  cautious  deniers  of  every 
other  miracle  admit,  the  antecedent  volition  was  a  will  of 
good  to  his  creatures,  in  perfect  analogy  with  that  antecedent 
graciousness  of  will  of  which  the  assertors  of  other  miracles 
suppose  them  to  be  the  consequents. 

If,  before  stating  his  abstract  argument,  Mr.  Hume  had 
established  any  one  of  the  following  propositions,  —  that  there 
is  no  proof  of  any  power  by  which  the  universe  was  formed, 
—  or  that  the  power  which  formed  the  universe,  and  was  the 
source  of  all  the  regularity  which  we  admire  in  nature,  exists 
no  longer,  —  or  that  the  race  of  beings  for  whom,  still  more 
than  for  any  other  of  its  various  races,  our  earth  appears  to 
have  been  formed,  have  now  become  wholly  indifferent  to  the 
great  Being,  who  then,  by  his  own  immediate  agency,  pro- 
vided for  them  with  so  much  care,  —  or  that  it  is  inc^ousistent 


502  THE    CREDIBILITY   OP   MIRACLES. 

with  his  wish  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  which  that 
early  provision  for  them  shows,  that  he  should  make  to  thera 
at  any  time  such  a  revelation  as  would  greatly  increase  their 
happiness,  —  or  that,  if  we  should  still  suppose  him  capable 
of  making  such  a  revelation,  he  could  not  be  expected  to 
sanction  it  with  the  authority  of  such  events  as  those  which 
we  term  miracles,  —  then,  indeed,  when  either  the  Divine 
power  was  excluded  from  the  number  of  the  existing  powei*s 
of  nature,  or  his  agency  in  the  particular  case  was  excluded, 
and  when  nothing,  therefore,  was  left  to  be  compared  but  the 
opposite  probabilities  or  improbabilities  of  breaches  of  the 
familiar  sequences  of  events,  the  argument  on  which  the 
Essayist  is  disposed  to  found  so  much,  might  have  been 
brought  forward  with  irresistible  force.  But  if  it  be  admitted 
that  a  Power  exists,  who  wrought  the  great  miracle  of  crear 
tion  with  a  gracious  view  to  the  happiness  of  man,  —  that 
there  is  no  reason  to  believe  this  happiness  to  be  less  an 
object  of  Divine  benevolence  than  it  was  originally, —  that 
a  revelation,  of  which  the  manifest  tendency  was  to  increase 
this  happiness,  would  not  be  inconsistent  with  such  benevo- 
lence, —  and  that,  if  a  revelation  were  deigned  to  man,  a 
miracle,  or  series  of  miracles,  might  be  regarded  as  a  very 
probable  sanction  of  it ;  —  then,  since  a  miracle  would  be  only 
the  natural  result  of  an  existing  physical  power,  in  the  pecu- 
liar and  very  rare  circumstances  in  which  alone  its  mighty 
energy  is  revealed,  the  evidence  of  its  operation  is  to  be 
examined,  precisely  like  the  evidence  of  any  other  extraor- 
dinary event.  There  is  no  violation  of  a  law  of  nature,  but 
there  is  a  new  consequent  of  a  new  antecedent.  The  extraor- 
dinary combination  of  circumstances,  of  which  a  miracle  is 
the  physical  result,  has  now  taken  place ;  as  when  an  earth- 
quake first  shook  the  hills,  or  a  volcano  fii-st  poured  out  its 
flood  of  fire,  after  the  earth  itself  had  perhaps  existed  for 
many  ages,  there  was  that  combination  of  circumstances  of  a 
different  kind,  of  which  earthquakes  and  volcanoes  are  the 
natural  results. 

A  mirade)  I  repeat,  if  it  truly  take  place,  is  as  little  con- 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MIRACLES.  503 

irary  to  any  law  of  nature,  as  any  other  phenomeiion.  It  is 
only  an  extraordinary  event,  the  result  of  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances ;  —  an  effect  that  indicates  a  Power  of  a  higher 
order  than  the  powers  which  we  are  accustomed  directly  to 
trace  in  phenomena  more  familiar  to  us,  but  a  Power  whose 
continued  and  ever-present  existence  it  is  atheism  only  thai 
denies.  The  evidence  of  a  miracle,  therefore,  being  the 
evidence,  not  of  any  violation  of  a  law  of  nature,  but  of  a 
fact  that  is  reducible,  like  every  other  fact,  to  the  physical 
operation  of  one  of  the  poAvers  of  nature,  does  not  form  a 
class  apart,  but  is  to  be  considered  exactly  like  the  evidence 
of  any  other  extraordinary  phenomenon,  that  depends  on 
circumstances  over  wliich  we  have  no  control.  It  is  to  be 
admitted  or  rejected,  therefore,  not  simply  as  being  evidence 
of  a  miracle,  but  as  evidence  which  is,  or  is  not,  of  sufficient 
weight  in  itself  to  establish  the  reality  of  the  extraordinary 
phenomenon,  in  support  of  which  it  is  adduced.  It  leaves 
the  mind  still  free  to  examine,  in  every  particular  case,  the 
likelihood  or  unlikelihood  of  the  mighty  agency  which  is 
asserted ;  but  in  the  freedom  of  a  philosophic  mind,  which 
knows  that  there  truly  exists  a  Power  capable  of  doing  what 
is  asserted  to  have  been  done,  it  will  find  only  such  doubt  as 
leads  to  greater  caution  of  inquiry,  and  not  instant  disbelief 
or  unexamining  rejection. 

I  have  already  said,  that  it  is  not  the  object  of  this  Note 
to  enter  into  an  examination  of  the  credibility  of  any  particu- 
lar set  of  miracles :  it  is  only  to  show  that  the  general  abstract 
argument,  with  which  Mr.  Hume  would  render  unavailing 
the  most  powerful  testimony  that  can  be  imagined  to  be 
offered  in  support  of  asserted  facts  of  this  kind,  has  not  the 
overwhelming  force  which  he  conceived  it  to  possess.  By 
correcting  the  false  definition  which  has  been  generally  given 
of  miracles,  with  an  analysis  of  them  which  appears  to  me 
more  philosophic,  I  would  reduce  them  to  the  rank  of  other 
physical  facts,  and  in  this  light  would  claim  for  them  the  same 
examination  which  we  give  to  the  reports  of  other  phenomena 
that  are  wholly  new  to  us, —  an  examination  that  may  be 


504  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF   MITIACLES. 

accompanied  vrith  the  strongest  doubt,  and  may  terminate  in 
disbelief,  if  the  evidence  be  slight  and  scanty,  but  which  may 
terminate  also  in  belief,  and  be  accompanied  with  doubt  pro- 
gressively fainter  and  fainter,  as  the  evidence  in  the  course  of 
inquiry  appears  to  be  of  greater  force.  This  title  to  be  ex- 
amined, it  might,  perhaps,  be  too  much  to  claim  for  any  mira- 
cle, if  it  were  asserted  to  be  the  actual  violation  of  those  laws 
of  nature,  on  the  belief  of  the  uniformity  of  which  our  very 
examination  of  its  probability  must  proceed.  But  it  is  not 
too  much  to  claim  for  it,  when  it  is  shown  not  to  involve  the 
inconsistency  that  is  implied  in  a  violation  of  a  law  of  nature, 
but  to  be  only  the  physical  operation  of  an  existing  power,  as 
little  opposite  to  the  regularity  of  nature,  in  the  particular 
circumstances  in  which  it  is  said  to  take  place,  as  any  other 
new  phenomena  that  result  from  new  combinations  of  physical 
circumstances.  There  is  not  a  phenomenon,  however  familiar 
now,  which  had  not  at  one  time  a  beginning ;  and  I  may  say 
even,  that  there  is  not  a  phenomenon  which  was  not  origi- 
nally, as  flowing  from  the  Creative  will,  an  event  of  this 
veiy  class.  Everything  has  once  been  miraculous,  if  miracu- 
lous mean  only  that  which  results  from  the  direct  operation 
of  a  Divine  power ;  and  the  most  strenuous  rejecter  of  all 
miracles,  therefore,  if  we  trace  him  to  his  origin,  through  the 
successive  generations  of  mankind,  is  an  exhibiter,  in  his  own 
person,  of  indubitable  evidence  of  a  miracle. 


NOTES. 

NOTE    A. 

(See  page  xix.) 

"The  liigh  antiquity  of  the  account  of  the  agony  in  tho 
garden,"  says  De  Wette,  "  is  attested  by  Heb.  v.  7,  and  by  its 
internal  verisimilitude  and  beauty,  especially  as  it  is  given 
in  Matthew.  This  internal  verisimilitude  and  beauty  must 
not  be  distui'bed  by  unnatural  suppositions,  as  where  some 
(Thiess,  Paulus)  suppose  a  bodily  feebleness  and  enervation, 
and  others  (Olshausen)  a  mystical  abandonment  by  God. 
The  following  observations  may  serve  to  place  the  narrative 
in  a  proper  light.  Heroic  indifference  to  suffering,  the  want 
of  which  Celsus  and  other  opposers  of  Christianity  have 
charged  upon  Jesus,  belongs  not  to  the  primitive  Christian 
ideal.  The  moral  strength  of  the  Christian  is  the  Divine 
element,  which  is  mighty  in  human  weakness.  It  is  a  touch- 
ing and  consoling  truth,  that  Jesus  felt  the  full  weight  of  his 
sufferings,  wholly  shared  with  us  the  weakness  of  humanity, 
and  went  before  us  in  overcoming  it  through  the  power  of 
prayer.  The  ground  of  his  anxiety  was  fear  on  account  of 
his  sufferings  (ver.  39)  ;  but  not  merely  on  account  of  his 
bodily  pain.  We  must  also  take  into  view  the  pain  which  he 
felt  that  the  object  of  his  mission  could  be  attained  only 
through  rejection,  persecution,  blood,  and  death,  and  thus  con- 
sider the  pain  which  he  felt  on  account  of  sins  not  his  own, 
for  which  he  was  to  suffer."  * 

*  De  Wette  on  Matt.  xxvi.  36. 
43 


506  NOTE   A. 

"  Jesus  cries  out  in  the  language  of  Ps.  xxii.  1,  and  the 
question  arises,  In  what  sense  did  he  use  this  verse  ?  Cer- 
tainly he  intended  to  express  something  passing  within  liimself, 
but  yet  borrowed  from,  and  of  course  in  conformity  with,  the 
sense  of  the  passage  12  its  connection  with  tlie  Psahn.  In 
both  connections  complaints  are  made  of  great  suffering,  which 
overpowers  human  nature  and  disturbs  its  harmony  with 
God,  —  a  suffering  so  great,  that  he  who  bears  it  believes 
himself  bereft  of  the  assistance  of  God.  But  we  know  that 
a  man  cannot  at  any  time  be  literally  foi-saken  by  God ;  since 
he  is  omnipresent.  Nor  can  a  truly  pious  man,  in  his  per- 
manent consciousness,  believe  himself  to  be  forsaken  by  him ; 
as  this  would  be  impious.  The  thought  expressed  in  the 
quotation  can  only  be  regarded  as  a  transient,  momentiuy 
obscuration  of  our  Saviour's  consciousness  of  God.  So,  in 
the  original  passage,  the  tone  of  complaint  is  changed  at  last 
by  the  Psalmist  into  one  of  confidence  and  hope.  Of  all 
persons  Jesus  could  least  be,  or  believe  himself  to  be,  deserted 
by  God;  since  in  him  the  consciousness  of  God  was  most 
perfect.  Yet  this  consciousness  might  momentarily  be  dis- 
turbed by  the  transient  ascendency  of  human  weakness.  For 
we  must  suppose  a  certain  infirmity  in  Jesus,  in  accordance 
with  his  liability  to  temptation  implied  in  Matt.  ch.  iv.  Since 
he  made  use  of  the  words  of  Ps.  xxii.,  it  is  more  than  prob- 
able, that  he  called  up  before  his  mind  its  whole  contents,  and 
of  course  the  change  of  complaint  into  comfort.  On  this 
supposition,  the  disturbance  of  his  consciousness  of  God  ceased 
immediately  after  his  utterance  of  the  words  of  the  first 
verse,  and  thus  his  language  has  the  same  import  as  that 
which  he  used  in  ch.  xxvi.  39  would  have  had,  if  he  had 
only  said,  *  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me,'  and 
had  not  added,  *  Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.* 
The  suffering  which  Jesus  experienced  for  a  moment  was  not 
mere  bodily  pain,  but  pain  of  soul  on  account  of  the  sina 
for  which  he  suffered.  See  on  xxvi.  39.  But  we  must 
not  suppose  it  to  have  been  a  suffering  which  expiated  the 
of  men,  and  abaolutely  sunk  itself  in  them,  if  we  would 


NOTE   A.  507 

not  darken  the  sin-conquering  strength  of  Jesus  upon  the 
cross.  The  lovers  of  tlie  horrible  may  compare  Olshausen, 
and  Ebrard,  p.  G93,  &c."  * 

On  John  xii.  27,  De  Wette  also  remarks  :  "  After  this  lofty 
burst  of  enthusiasm,  human  weakness  makes  itself  felt  for  a 
moment  in  Jesus,  and  with  noble  openness  he  gives  expres- 
sion to  it  in  the  language,  *  Now  is  my  soul  troubled,  and 
what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour  !*.... 
But  with  the  expression  of  submission  to  the  Divine  will,  in 
the  language,  '  Father,  glorify  thy  name ! '  i.  e.  cause  [through 
my  death]  that  men  shall  acknowledge  and  honor  thee  as 
what  thou  art,  as  Father !  the  spirit  of  Jesus  triumphs  over 
the  flesh,  as  in  Matt.  xxvi.  39,  in  the  words,  '  Not  as  I  will, 
but  as  thou  wilt.'  " 

Dr.  LiJcke,  in  his  comments  on  John  xii.  27,  28,  remarks: 
**  When  Jesus  says,  '  Now  is  my  soul  troubled,'  &c.,  it  seems 
as  if  he  were  interrupted  in  the  thoughts  which  had  occupied 
his  mind  in  ver.  23-  26,  by  a  strong  emotion,  so  that  ne  was 
not  in  a  condition  to  continue  them.  The  excitement  of  his 
feelings  does  not  wholly  overmaster  him.  He  can  think  —  he 
can  speak ;  but  it  is  so  strong  that  his  utterance  becomes 
abrupt  and  brief,  so  that  for  a  moment  he  knows  not  what  to 
say ;  — '  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  '  What  is  it  that  so  deeply 
moves  him  ?  What  is  it  which  against  his  will  takes  posses- 
sion of  his  soul  ?  It  is  the  thought  of  his  impending  death, 
which  in  ver.  23  —  26  presses  upon  him  with  so  much  power. 
But  how  ?  Jesus  has  spoken  of  his  death  with  so  much 
clearness  as  to  represent  it  as  necessary  for  the  salvation  of 
his  kingdom,  and  as  the  principal  means  of  his  glorification. 
In  general,  death  has  had  for  him,  the  holy  one,  no  sting. 
No  pain  even  on  account  of  the  temporary  interruption  of  his 
work  by  death  appears  in  ver.  25  and  26  to  have  affected  his 
mind.     How  then  are  we  to  explain  the  fact,  that  his  soul  is 

*  De  Wette's  Exegctisches  Handbuch,  Matt,  xxvii.  46. 


508  NOTE    A. 

now  so  much  shaken  by  the  thought  of  his  impending  death  ? 
This  would  be  wholly  inexplicable,  were  it  not  true  that  the 
only-begotten  son  of  God  was  also  the  son  of  man,  so  that  he 
was  subject  to  the  involuntary  emotions  of  the  soul,  —  to  the 
purely  human  feeling  of  fear  as  well  as  of  joy.  The  strong 
joy  in  life  which  man  naturally  possesses  includes  in  itself 
as  naturally  the  fear  of  death.  It  is  according  to  a  holy  law 
of  nature  that  death  has  its  terrors  for  men,  especially  death 
in  youth,  in  the  freshness  of  life.  If  we  also  regard  the 
death  of  Jesus  as  the  culminating  point  of  his  conflict  with 
the  sinful  world,  it  acquires  even  for  a  holy  spirit  a  dismaying 
power.  A  soul  so  delicately  organized  as  we  must  conceive 
that  of  the  Redeemer  to  have  been,  must  necessarily  have 
been  seized  by  it.  But  Jesus  was  seized  by  it  only  for  a 
moment.  A  permanent  possession  by  it  such  as  prevents  all 
thought,  all  speech,  is  under  any  circumstances  inconceivable 
in  the  spirit  of  the  only-begotten  son  of  God,  and  especially 
immediately  after  what  he  has  said  with  such  clearness  and 
explicitness  in  verses  23-26.  As  in  other  cases  the  virtue 
of  the  Redeemer  in  conflict  appears  at  the  same  moment 
in  triumph,  and  as  the  passive  state  of  his  mind  suddenly 
changes  into  an  active  one,  so  also  here.  Even  in  the  very 
expression  of  his  dismay,  he  rises  above  it.  But  it  is  in  hi? 
prayer  to  his  Father  that  his  divine  rest  and  composure  com- 
pletely return.  Yet  it  is  only  by  degrees  that  the  emotion 
subsides,  and  the  waves  of  mental  agitation  become  still. 
Thus  the  language  of  the  Redeemer  is  an  actual  prayer. 
*  Father,  save  me  from  from  this  hour!'  the  hour  of  death. 
So  vivid  is  the  thought  of  this,  that  he  sees  himself  already 
in  the  midst  of  it.  He  is  in  conflict,  he  suffei*s,  now.  Hence 
the  words,  *  Save  me  from  this  hour !  *  Griesbach  and 
Lachmann  read  the  sentence  interrogjitively.  According  to 
their  pointing,  the  prayer  acquires  a  peculiar  character.  Jesus 
asks,  as  it  were,  whetiier  he  should  so  pniy.  Thus  in  not 
venturing  or  resolving  so  to  pray,  he  manifests  a  degree 
of  resignation.  But  De  Wette  supposes  that  the  language 
should  be  understood  without  the  interrogation,  as  nn  actual 


NOTE    A.  509 

prayer ;  as  in  Matt.  xxvi.  39.  He  is  right.  The  prayer 
naturally  expresses  the  opposition,  the  conflict,  between  hia 
fear  of  death  and  the  spirit  of  resignation  which  belonged 
to  the    consciousness  of  his  Divine  mission.     The    question, 

*  What  shall  I  say  ? '  is  the  expression  of  this  conflict  in 
prayer.     But  the  conflict  is  victoriously  ended,  when  he  says, 

*  Bui  for  this  cause  came  I  to  this  hour.'  These  words, 
being  the  concise  expression  of  strong  feeling,  are  obscure. 
If  we  regard  it  as  doubtful  whether  the  phrase,  '  to  come  to 
this  hour,'  (pxeadai  els  rfjv  wpav,  means  to  come  to  an  ap- 
pointed hour  with  the  idea  of  experiencing  it,  we  may  take 
rjkBov,  '  I  came,'  in  an  absolute  sense,  as  denoting  the  coming 
of  the  Redeemer  into  the  world ;  and  fls  rfjv  wpau  ravrrjv^  '  to 
this  hour,'  as  denoting  the  design  of  his  coming,  namely,  the 
suffering  of  the  hour  of  death.  In  this  case  we  may  refer 
ha  TovTo,  '  for  this  cause,'  to  the  same,  so  that  as  an  indefinite 
expression  it  becomes  more  closely  defined  by  els  rqv  wpav 
ravTTjv,  '  for  this  very  hour.'  [In  this  way  the  rendering  will 
be,  "It  was  for  this  I  came,  —  for  this  hour."]  But  on  a 
comparison  of  the  phraseology  with  elo-epx^ordai  ds  ti)v  Ccofjv, 
*to  enter  into  life,'  in  Matt.  xix.  17,  ds  Tr)v  KaTdnava-iv^  'to 
enter  into  rest,'  in  Heb.  iii.  11,  and  els  neipan-pou,  'into  temp- 
tation,' in  Matt.  xxvi.  41,  the  doubt  is  removed.  As  in  verse 
23  the  hour  for  Jesus  is  said  to  have  come,  so  he  has  now 
come  to  this  hour  in  the  sense  of  experiencing  it.  [In  this 
way  the  rendering  of  the  Common  Version  is  correct,  "  for 
this  cause  came  I  to  this  hour."]  But  what  is  meant  by 
'  this  cause  '  ?  It  is  not  definitely  expressed.  How  is  it  to 
be  understood  from  the  connection  ?     According  to  De  Wette, 

*  this  cause  *  means  either  *  to  die,'  or  to  fulfil  what  is  ex- 
pressed in  verse  24.  But  the  former  is  tautological,  the  latter 
too  remote.  Olshausen  supposes  '  this  cause '  to  denote  the 
redemption  of  mankind.  But  this  gives  only  a  general  view 
of  the  meaning,  and  is  not  indicated  in  the  connection. 
Meyer  is  right  in  understanding  '  this  cause,'  on  account  of 
its  connection  with  what  follows,  as  relating  to  Christ's  glori- 
fication.    It  is,  as  it  were,  an  abbreviated  expression  of  the 


510  NOTE    A. 

words  in  verse  23,  *  Now  is  the  Son  of  Man  glorified,*  which 
floated  in  the  mind  of  John  in  the  conception  of  tiie  prayer. 
In  tlie  prayer  this  is  more  definitely  expressed  in  the  words, 
*  F'ather,  glorify  thy  name.'  This  is  the  ab.-olute  object,  in 
which  everything  else  is  included.  With  this  absolute  '  for 
this  cause,'  our  Lord  recovers  the  divine  clearness  and  bright- 
ness of  his  spirit,  which  he  had  before  his  soul  was  momen- 
tarily and  involuntarily  troubled,  as  in  verse  23.  It  is  the 
glorification  of  the  Divine  name,  the  New  Testament  name 
of  Father,  in  which  his  own  glory  as  Son  was  included,  for 
which  he  prays  with  full  confidence.  AVith  the  same  spirit  of 
submission  the  similar  agitation  of  his  soul  in  the  garden  of 
Getlisemane  begins  and  ends."  * 

Meyer,  on  Matt,  xxvii.  46,  remarks :  "  Jesus  expresses  his 
feeling  in  the  first  words  of  the  twenty-second  Psalm.  It  is 
the  feeling  of  being  momentarily  overpowered  by  the  sever- 
est pain By  the  words,  '  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?' 

Jesus  expressed  what  he  personally  felt,  his  conscioif^nsss  of 
communion  with  God  having  been  for  a  moment  interrupted 
by  his  sufferings.  But  this  momentary  subjective  feeling  is 
not  to  be  confounded  with  an  actual  objective  abandonment  by 
God  (against  Olsh.  and  the  older  commentators),  which  at 
least  in  the  case  of  Jesus  would  have  been  a  physical  and 

moral  impossibility To  find,   with    the  older  dogmatic 

theologians,  the  vicarious  feeling  of  Divine  wrath  in  the 
cry  of  anguish,  *  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?'  is  to  go  be- 
yond the  New  Testament  view  of  the  atoning  death  of  Christ, 
as  also  that  of  the  agony  in  Getlisemane.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  opinion  of  some  interpreters,  that  Jesus,  when  he 
quoted  the  first  verse  of  the  Psalm,  had  in  his  mind  the 
whole  of  it,  is  arbitrary,  and  brings  into  his  condition  of  im- 
:nediatc  feeling  the  heterogeneous  element  of  reflection  and 
citation." 

Bishop  Pearson,  than  whom  no  writer  of  the  Church  of 

*  Commcntor  Qbcr  das  Evon^.  dcs  Johunncs,  ad  ioc 


yOTE  A.  511 

England  has  greater  authority  with  Episcopalians,  remarks 
on  Matt.  xxvi.  29 :  "  These  words  infer  no  more  than  that  he 
was  bereft  of  such  joys  and  comforts  from  the  Deity  as 
should  assuage  and  mitigate  the  acerbity  of  his  present  tor- 
ments." ♦ 

The  long  note  of  Bleek  on  Heb.  v.  11  is  substantially  the 
same  as  the  briefer  one  of  the  recent  commentator  Liinemann : 
"  Who  in  tlie  days  of  his  flesh,  when  he  had  offered  up 
prayers  and  supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears  unto 
Him  that  was  able  to  save  him  from  death,  and  who  was 
heard  on  account  of  his  fear  of  God."  On  this  Liinemann 
remarks :  "  In  characterizing  God  as  '  Him  that  was  able  to 
deliver  Christ  from  death,'  is  implied  the  subject  of  Christ's 
prayer,  namely,  deliverance  from  death'* 

De  Wette,  in  his  note  on  the  same  passage,  maintains  that 
our  Saviour's  prayer  mentioned  in  it  was  for  preservation 
from  death,  even  if  el<TaKovad€\s  anb  r^i  ciXa^elas  should  be 
understood  as  meaning  "  and  was  heard  and  delivered  from 
his  fear."  De  Wette  supposes  that  "  the  being  heard  "  may 
refer  not  even  to  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  but  only  to  the 
strength  given  him  to  endure  his  sufferings,  which  was  sug- 
gested to  the  writer  by  the  tradition  of  the  strengthening 
angel,  recorded  in  Luke  xxii.  43. 

Ebrard,  in  his  note  on  the  passage,  remarks :  *'  Christ  was, 
in  reference  to  Ms  prayer  to  he  'preserved,  heard,  and  thus 
saved,  otto  t^s  evXa^eias^  from  his  fear.  But  then  there  is  m 
these  very  words,  otto  rrjs  evXa^eias,  a  limitation  of  claaKova6ds, 
and  was  heard.  He  prayed  to  be  preserved  from  the  death 
which  threatened  him,  and  was  heard  and  saved  from  the  fear 
of  death."  t 

♦  Pearson  on  the  Creed,  Art.  IV.  t  Ebrard  on  Heb.  v.  7. 


512  NOTE   B. 


NOTE   B. 


(See  page  xxi.) 

All  that  is  to  be  said  in  defence  of  our  ancestors  in  refer- 
ence to  tliis  and  other  cases  of  interference  with  the  rights  of 
conscience,  or  what  Roger  WilHams  called  soul-freedom,  is 
that  they  acted  up  to  their  principles ;  which  are  strongly  stated 
in  Norton's  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  the  General  Court,  which  is 
prefixed  to  his  Answer  to  Pynchon  :  "That  licentious  and  pes- 
tilent proposition,  The  care  of  religious  matters  belongs  not  to 
the  magistrate,  is  a  stratagem  of  the  Old  Serpent  and  Father 
of  lies,  to  make  free  passage  for  the  doctrine  of  devils ;  an 
invention  not  unlike  Saul's  oath,  the  trouble  of  Israel  and 
escape  of  the  enemy ;  a  Satanical  device  tending  to  under- 
mine the  policy  of  God;  attempting  to  charm  that  sword 
with  a  fallacy,  whose  dexterous  and  vigorous  use  instrumen- 
tally  puts  away  evil  from  Israel,  and  turneth  every  way  in  its 
manner  to  keep  the  path  of  the  tree  of  life.  The  rusting  of 
this  sword  of  Divine  execution  in  the  scabbard  hath  been 
more  destructive  unto  truth  than  the  drawing  of  the  sword  of 
persfccution." 


THE   END. 


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